Skip to main content

Full text of "The Annual biography and obituary"

See other formats


This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project 

to make the world's books discoverable online. 

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject 

to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books 

are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover. 

Marks, notations and other maiginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the 

publisher to a library and finally to you. 

Usage guidelines 

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the 
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing tliis resource, we liave taken steps to 
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. 
We also ask that you: 

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for 
personal, non-commercial purposes. 

+ Refrain fivm automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine 
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the 
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help. 

+ Maintain attributionTht GoogXt "watermark" you see on each file is essential for in forming people about this project and helping them find 
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it. 

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just 
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other 
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of 
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner 
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe. 

About Google Book Search 

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers 
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web 

at |http: //books .google .com/I 




■ b/Googk 










Prinlad bj- A. & R. Spottinroode, 



In tb<e Index, at the end of the present volume, are the 
names of several eminent and excellent persons, of whom it 
would have been very satis&ctory to the Editor, had he been 
enabled to insert full biographical notices in the body of the 
work; but all application &r materials to the near connections 
of those persons proved fruitless. There are, in particular, 
two lamented individuals, the one of whom was in the church, 
the other at the bar ; both men of great talents, and extensive 
attainments, of actively virtuous life, and of the highest cha- 
racter in their req)ective protessions; and yet of whom, owing 
to the cause above-mentioned, little is recorded beyond the 
mere fact of their decease. On this apparent apathy, re- 
garded in a private point of view, it would be improper in the 
Editor to make a single comment; but, looking at the subject 
with reference to the general gratiBcation and interest, he 
must be permitted to lament, that, at a time when the public 
mind is unceasingly vitiated by narratives of the profligate 
adventures of strumpets and swindlers, every opportunity is 
not tmxiously embraced of counteracting the pernicious ten- 
dency of those infamous details, by describing the honourable 
' and successful career of persons distinguished for their moral 
and intellectual qualities; and thereby of, in some degree, 
continuing to posterity the benefit which the bright example 
of such persons, while they lived, conferred on their contem- 

It is pleasing to pass from these remarks to acknowledg- 
ment for the obliging assistance which has been sfTorded in 
the preparation of some of the memoirs in the present volume, 
by individuals, whose names it would not be consistent with 
delicacy to publish, but whose intimacy with the subjects of 
those memoirs qualified them, and whose courtesy induced 
them, to communicate much authentic and Bcceptahle inform- 
ation. . , 

For the kind manner in which the last volume of the 
Annjial Biography and Obituary was spoken of, in several 
critical publications, the Editor is also gratefiil. With regard 
to certain strictures on the same volume in the " Gentleman's 
Magazine," their tone and language might weU justify him in 
abstaining from all notice of them. But he has too muett 
respect for the opinion of the world, he has too much respect 
even for the. publication in which those strictures appeared, 
to be wholly silent ; although be will endeavour to comprize 
what he has to say in a very small compass. 

In the first place, he frankly avows that he regrets not 
having, in every instance^ distinctly specified, in the only two 
volumes of the Annual Biography and Obituary, (before the 
present) for the management of which be is responsible, the 
authority fur the memoirs, or for the component parts of the 
memoirs, of which those volumes consisted. But, ahboo^ 
particular acknowledgment might be wanting, in general ao- 
kno\vledgment he was not deficient. For proof of this alle- 
gation, he refers to the statement, in the Fre&ce to the last 
volume, that its contents had been derived from variom 
sources ; — " principally from contemporary publications of 
every respectable description, and from private and friendly 
contributions;" and to the subsequent enumeration of the 
memoii's which were original, and of those which were not 
so. He, however, i-epeats his regret that be contented him- 
self with this general acknowledgment; and the present 
volume, in which his authorities are particularized with scru- 
pulous accuracy, will at least show that he is not one of those 
who, when they become aware of en error, hesitate to coi^ 
rect it. 

As to the question of the propriety or impropriety of his-' 
deriving his materials from the best sources that may present 
themselves, he begs simply to advert to the conduct of his 
censor in that respect. For some years past, the " Gentle- 
man's Magazine," (a publication rendered venetBble by its 
age, by its merits, and by the recollection of the learned men 
who, from time to time, have *' recreated their travailed 

spirits" in contributing to its pages,) no doubt feeling the 
competition of more youthiiil periodical miscellanies, has 
wisely maintained its grave and ancient character, by meet' 
ing fiction with &ct ; and, in the interesting, though usually 
brief relation of the lives of real human beings, has found a 
powerful security for its popularity and circulation, against 
■ the efforts of rivals who have resorted for the means of public 
attraction chie6y to the regions of fancy. But has Sylvanus 
Urban relied, in this department of bis magazine, entirely on 
the communications of his literary friends and correspondents? 
Far from it With many original and valuable biographicai 
sketches, from the pens of some of the most able and intel- 
ligent writers in the country, he has mingled numerous noti«s 
of a similar kind, collected from every accessible quarter; — 
from the daily and weekly papers of the metropolis, from 
the provincial journals of England, Scodand, and Ireland, 
from colonial prints, from other monthly publications, from 
regular biographical works, such as the " Public Characters," 
" Marshall's Royal Naval Bic^raphy," " The Royal Military 
Calendar, &c." • Does the Editor of the Annual Biography 
uid Obituary blame this practice ? Quite the reverse. To 
him it appears to be exceedingly laudable. But he hopes 
that what is allowed to be pnuse^worthy in another, may, 
at least, not be pronounced reprehensible in him. 
- It is certainly true, that his last volume was indebted to 
the " Gentleman's Magazine" for a considerable and valu- 
able portion of its contents. It is certfunly true, that it was 
indebted to other periodical publications for much useful in- 
formation. It is certiunly true, that the present volume is 
likewise indebted to the same publications for extensive assist- 
ance. Were the Annual Biography and Obituary a work, 
the interests of which clashed with those of any of the respect- 

* OenenUj, by ihe by, dthough not always, unaccompanied by any acknow- 
ledgment ) of whicb an amusiDg instance is afibrded in tbe nauieli widi which 
the Editor of the Annual Biogra[diy and Obituary i« challenged to name the coun- 
try nawipaper from whr'ch an account oT the (ate Baron Wood, iuseited in the 
Gentleman's Magaiine, was abritlgnl. 

able publications to which it thus has recourse, in aid of its 
own resources ; the question would wear another aspect, but 
there can he no collision between them. Their scope and 
object are entirely different If a history were to be written 
of the progress or retrogression of the Catholic cause; and if 
tlie historiao were to transcribe from the present volume of 
the Annual Biography and Obituary, the details of the efforts - 
made by the late Lord Donoughmore in &voar of that cause, 
(which it cost some labour to trace and extract from the 
records of parliament,) would the Editor of this work remon- 
strate against such a proceeding? On the contrary, he should 
regard it, not only as justifiable, but as complimentary. 

One word more. If there had ever been an attempt to 
represent the Annual Biography fuid Obituary as auy thing 
but that which it always has been, and which, owing to its 
very nature, and to the peculiar circumstances under which it 
is prepared and produced, it always must be ; namely, a work 
partly ori^nal, but pardy compiled, * public reproof ought to 
&11 upon aa assumption so unfounded. No such pretension, 
however, has been advanced. Various occurrences may in- 
fluence the character of its composition. In some years it 
may be enabled to boast of a greater amount of original, 
in (Abers it must be satisfied to avail itself of a great^ 
amount of borrowed matter; but a compound of the two it 
must always remain ; and the Editor of it would feel that he 
ill-discharged his duty, if he neglected any &ir means of ren- 
dering that compound as copious, interesting, and correct as 

December 31, 1825. 





IN 1824—1825. 

No. Page 

1. Lord Sadstoci 1 

2. Tie -Revetend Hemy Kelt, B. D. - - - 15 

3. Mrs. Barba^dd . _ - - - - 26 

4. The Reverend Charles tVol/e, A.B. - - - 63 

5. Lord WMtworth 97 

6. The Reverend Savaicl Parr, LL. D. - - - 121 

7. Tliomas Bamdle), Esq. 191 

8. The Bishop of Salisbury 219 

9. Henry Fuseli, Esq. M.A. R.A. - - - 232 

10. The Reverend Abraham Sees, D.D, - - - 271 

11. Ijtrd Carlisle 291 

12. Alexander Tilloch, LL. D. - ... 320 

13. Mrs. Franklin 335 

14. WiUiam Owen, Esq. n. A. - - - - S69 

15. Sir Thomas Bertie - 367 

16. Lord Donoughmore ------ 37* 


A General Biographical List of Persons voho have died in 

1834—1825 405 








No. I. 



ABLE soccety; cohmibsiombr of the corporation land- 
tax; A vice-president of the clergy orphan society; 

. OS the society VOR the SUPPBKSfilON OF VICE; OS THI 

X HE family of Waldegrave, formeriy written WaJgrave, 
of which this gallant and excellent noblemKn was a member, 
is dtiDominated from a place of their own name in Korthamip- 
tonshire, where they resided before the year 1200. Lord 
Radstock's uncle, James, the second Earl of Waldegrave^ 

VOL. X, B 



onarriwl Maria, daughter of Sir Edward Walpole. Slie 
afterwards became t^e consort of the late Duke of Gloucester, 
Ijrother of Geoi^ the Third; and died in August, 1807. 

Lord Radstock was the second son of John, third Earl of 
"Waldegrav^ by Lady Elizabeth Gower, sister of Granville, 
first Marquis, and aunt of the present Marquis of Stafford. 
He was bom the 9th of July, 1758. TTie pn^ession of the 
navy was his x>wn particular choice, fuid he was happily 
placed under the tuition of such officers as were calculated to 
improve his eariy genius for nautical science. Having gone 
-through the inferior ^adations uf service ia the Mediterra- 
nean and Western -Seas, he was promoted to the command 
-of the Zephyr sloop about 1775, and on the 30th of May, 
1776, advanced to the rank of post captain in the Rippon 
Af 60 guns, bearing the broad pendant of Sir Edward 

Captain Waldegrare's timepassed on in the usual routine of 
service until August 10, 1778, on which day the Commodore, 
being on a cruise off the coast of Ccaomandel, fell in with a 
French squadron under M Tranjolly. An action oisued 
and was maintained with gi-eat obstinacy for two hours, when 
the enemy, availing themselves of the (rippled condition of 
the British i^ips, made sail and steered for Pondicherry, Oa 
the 21st Sir Edward again got sight trf" them, but their supe~ 
riority in sailing prevented his being able to bring them to 
action; they, however, quitted the coast, which gave the 
Commodore an ojiportunity of taking possession of the an- 
chorage in Pondichen^-Kutd, by wliich means he was enabled 
to co^jKrale with the army in the reduction of that place. 
In October .« surrendered to (he British arms. 

In the above-mentioned action the number of ships on 
each side was equal. Those of the English mounted 118 
guns; those of the French ISO, The Joss of the fermer 
consisted of 11 killed, and 53 wounded (the Rippon had 
t killed, and 15 wounded); the loss of the enemy was never 
ascertained. The Sartine French frigate, mistaking the 
British for her own squadron, was afterwards taken. 



The climate of the East Indies not freeing with Captain 
Waldegrave's health, he returned to England, and iminedi- 
ately on his arrival was appointed to the Pomona of 28 guns. 
In this ship he captured the Cumberland American privateer, 
of 20 guns, and 170 men. This was an important service, 
for the enemy's vessel had heen exceedingly destructive to our 
trade. Some mcHlths after. Captain Waldegrave removed 
into La Prudente of 38 guns and 280 men, and after making 
a voyage to the Baltic was attached to the Channel fleet. 

On the 4th of July, 1780, Captwn Waldegrave having 
been sent by Sir Francis Geary to cruise off Cape Ortegal, 
in company with Uie Licome of 32 guns, fell in with, and, 
after an obstinately contested action of four houi's, captured 
La Capricieuse, a new French frigate, pierced for 44 guns, 
but mounting only 32, with a complement of 308 men, above 
100 of whom, including her Commander, were either -killed 
or wounded. Upon taking possession of the prize she was 
found in so disabled a state, owing to her gallant defence, 
that upon the report of a survey, held by the carpenters of 
the British frigates. Captain Wald^rave ordered her to be 

Irfi Prudente bore the brunt of the above action, and was 
consequently a greater su&rer than her companion. She had 
four midshipmen and 13 seamen killed, her second lieutenant, 
one midshipman, and 26 men wounded. The Licorne had 
only three men slain and seven wounded. 

In the spring of 1781, Captain Waldegrave accompanied 
Admiral Darby to the relief of Gibraltar, and townnls the 
<^ose of that year he assisted at the c^ture of a number of 
French tr^isports that were proceeding with troops and stores 
to the West Indies, under the protection of M. de Guicher. 
The skill displayed by the British squadron on tfiis occasion, 
in presence of an enemy's fleet, nearly double in numbers and 
force, deserves to be recorded. The following are the parti- 
culars of this affiiir, which reflected credit on all present. 

. In the month of November 1781, the French fleet, consist- 
ing of nineteen sail of the line, many of which were first and se- 
B 2 



cond rates, besides two 64-^un ships, armed enfiiUe, and several 
frigates, put to sea from Brest, to escort their East and West 
trade safe to a certain latitude. The British Grovernmeii^ 
were no sooner af^risedof this, than a squadron of twelve sail 
of the lin^ one ship of 50 guns, and four frigates,, under the 
command of Resr-Admiral Kempenfelt, were dispatched to 
mtercept them. On the 12th December, at day-brealc, being 
about S5 leagues to the westward rf Ushant, the enemy were 
discovered, and appeared much dispersed, the ships of war 
being very considerably to leeward of the merchantmen. 
With a force so much beyond his own, the Rear-Admiral 
could not in prudence hazard a general action; but having 
the weather-gage, he determined to sail parallel with the 
enemy, and to watch a fit opportunity of bearing down upon 
tlieir reiu-, and cutting off their charge. In the course of a 
few hours the van and centre of the French fieet bad shot 
considerably a'head of the rear, and the merchant-vesseU, 
under die protection of four or five frigates, had &]1^ consi- 
derably to leeward. Upon observing this, the Britiah squa- 
dron bore up in line ef battle arhead, the van engaging the 
rear of the enemy; the remainder of the ships passed to leeward, 
and effectually cut off and captured fiEleen of the transports, 
and sunk four of the frigates that had rashly endeavoured to. 
protect them. This manceuvre having brought his squadron 
above half a league to leeward of the enemy, and the wind 
blowing directly fait for the coast of England, Rear-Admiral 
Kempenfelt formed his ships into two divisions, the first of~ 
which took the prizes in tow, and the other kept up a running 
fight with the French Fleet; and in this order, under q great 
press of sful, he carried the whole of the captured vessels into 
Plymouth, in the face of the enemy, and in spite of tbeir 
utmost endeavours to prevent him. 

Having terminated h|s progress through the American war 
with infinite credit, the state of Capt^ Waldegrave's ^ealdi 
required him to seek a milder climate- than that of England ; 
he accordingly repaired to the Continent, where he remained 
several years, during which period he visiffid Paris, Mar- 


seilles, Constantinople, Smyrna, and several of the islands 
in the Archipelago, and made a tour of the greater part of 

It is well known th«t in 1790, a dispute took place with 
Spain, redative to a settlement which had been made on the 
western coast of America, in 1788; and that preparatirais, 
both nav^ and miUtary, were recurred to by each party, in 
consequence of it. The court of Madrid being conscious of its 
utter inalality to enter into a contest wi^ Great Britain, ap- 
plied for the assistance of France. The National Assembly 
howevo*, exhitnted great reluctance to enter into a war about 
so -iusigtiificiuit an ot^ect; and a convention was soon after 
s^ned at the Escurial, by which, not only the setdement <tf 
Nootka Sound was restored, but the free navigation of, and 
the right of fishery in those seas, were conceded to Crreat 
Britain. During this discussion, Captain Waldegrave com- 
manded the Majestic of 74 guns. At the commencement of 
the year .1793, Captain Wald^rave was appointed to the 
Conrageux, of 74 guns, and in the following spnng accom- 
p«iied Vic^Admiral Hotham to the Mediterranean. 

By this time, Louis XVI. had experienced a violent death 
on a public scafibld ; and France had declared herself a re- 
public. But, while this new commonwealth smcAe all her 
foreign en^nies, and carried terror and desolation on her vic- 
. torious banners, her own provinces were a prey to domestic ' 
&ctions and civil wars. 

The squadron under Vice-Admiral Hotham was speedily 
fellowed by the main body of the fleet destined to ac^ under 
the orders of Lord Hood, in concert with the Royalists of 
ihe southern departments oT that distracted country. Upoif 
the arrival of his Lordship in the Mediterranean, he pro- 
ceeded o fiLT oulon, the inhabitants of which place and Mar- 
iseilles, hnnianifested evident signs of a dbposition to - free 
themselves irbm the oppressive yoke of their new masters. 
'Lord Hood availed himself of these dissentions to open a 
oegotialion with the commandant, aia6, principal residents of 
ToulOH} for the deUvering up of the town, arsenal, f(»ts, and 
B 3 



stiipping, to his Britannic Majesty, in truist fi>r the reigning 
King of France, at the re-establishment of peace and order 
in that country. The general committee of the sections off 
Toulon having acquiesced in the proposals made by the 
British Admiral, the necessary arrangements were Rutde for 
the landing of 1500 men, which was accomplished by no«B 
on the 2&th August. T)ie disembarkation was con^eted 
under the immediate protection of two frigates, supported 'by 
the Courageux, and three other line-of-battle ships j and tlie 
same day the British fTeet, and a Spanish squadron under 
Don Juan de Langara, anchored in the outer road of TouI<hi, 
the greater part of the French fleet at that anchorage re- 
moving into the inner harbour. On the following day Cap- 
tain WaWegrave, and the late Lord Hugh Seymour Conway, 
were seat to England with Lord Hood's dispatches, giving 
an account of this important event. Those officers being 
ordered to take different routes, the former proceeded to 
Barcelona, and fi-om thence, across the Spanish peninsula, 

Captain Waldegrave soon after retmrned to the Mediter- 
ranean (with instructions for Lord Hood's further proceedings,) 
by the way of Holland, Germany, and Italy, and on his arrival 
resumed the command of the Courageux, in which ship he 
terminated his services as a captain. On the 4th of July 

1794, he was advanced to the rank of rear-admiral, a short 
time previous to which he had been nominated a colonel of 

His promotion to a flag obliged Reai'-Admiral Waldegrave 
to return to EngliMid, which he did by land. He subsequently 
held a command in the Channel fleet. On the 1st of June 

1795, he was mode a vice-admiral, and in the fall of the 
same year he again sailed for the Mediterranean. During the 
succeeding spring lie was sent with five ships offthe line to 
negotiate wi^ the Tunisians. His mission was of a peculiarly 
arduous and delicate nature, notwithstanding which, however, 
he executed it to the complete satisfaclJon of the naval com- 
naandei--ia-chief, Sir John Jervis, and Sir Gilbert Elliot, 



Viceroy of Corsica, by wbom he had been tieputetl. On the 
nigfat previous to his quitting Tunis the boats of Vice-Adminil 
"Waldegrare's squadron, under the direction of Captain Sutton 
of the Egmont, cut out of the bay several aneed vessels. From 
thb period] excqiting the unprecedent^ length of time which 
the ships were kept at sea, nothing remarkable occurred unti] 
the 11th of February 1797, when SirJohn Jervis, with fifteen 
stuI.of the line, encountered and defeated a Spanish fleet con- 
sisting of twenty-seven ships, seven of which mounted from 1 12 
to 130 guns; a memorable event, which completely drfeated 
the projected junction of the navies c^ France, Holland, and 
Spain, and thus preserved to Great Britun its proud do- 
minion of the ocean. Upon this occasion Vice-Admiral 
Waldegrave received Irom Sir John Jervis the following 
letter, in acknowledgment of the very essential services he 
had rendered: 

" Sir, Victory, in Lagos Bay, Feb. 16, 1797- 

" No language I am possessed of can convey the high sense- 
I entertain of the exemplary conduct of the flag-officers, 
captains, officers, seamen, marines, and soldiers, embarked 
on board every ship of the squadron I have the honour to 
command, present at the vigorous and successful attack made 
npon the fleet of Spain on the 14th instant The signal ad- 
vantage obtained by his Majesty's arms on that day, is entirely 
to be attributed to their determined valour and discipline; and 
I desire you will accept my gratefiil thanks &r your service 
on that occasion. 

" I have the honour to be, Sir, 

** Your most obedient humble servant, 

" The Hon. Wm. Waldegrave, 
&c. &c. &c." 

. Vice-Admiral Waldegrave also received k note from the 
henuc Nelson, accompanied by the sword of the second cap- 

B * 



taili of the St. Nicholas, as a proof of his esteem for th^ noble 
EiMiner in which be had conducted himself. 
, So<»i after tfae above glorious event, the gallant subject 
of this- memoir vtta nominal governor of Newfoundland, 
alid c<Hnmanc(er^in-chi^ of the squadron employed on that 
station. This ^pointment he held for sereral years, durbg 
which he devoted his whole sttendim to the wel&re of that 
island, and obtainad very particular approbation. He left a 
lasting momimeBt of his att^Uon to the reli^ous and mon) 
Interests of the community- <^ Newfoundland in- the emction 
t^ a church, to the expence of which, as well as that of pro* 
viding a better maintenance for the ministers employed in die 
island he liberally c<mtribiited ; and waimly promoted the sub- 
scription for those purposes, among his Irieods, both in the 
island, and at home. 

It was at that period the regulation for the governor of 
Newfoundland to return to England at the Fall of the year, 
and remain there during the winter months. In consequence 
of this custom, Vice- Admiral Waldegrave had the gratifica- 
tion of assisting in the solemn ceremonies of a day devoted to 
thanksgiving for the splendid triumphs that the Almighty had 
vouchsafed to the fleets of Britain. On the 19th of Dec. 
1797, their laCe Majesties and all the royal family, attended 
by the great otScers of the state, and the members of both 
Houses of Parliament, went in procession to St. Paul's Ca- 
thedral to return thanks for the glorious naval victories 
obtained by Lord Howe,June I, 1794; by Admiral Hotham, 
March 13, 1795; by Lord Bridport, June 23, 1795; by 
Sir John Jervis, Feb. 14, 1797 ; and by Admiral Duncan, 
Oct. 11, the same year; and to deposit the flags taken on 
those occasions, as well as the colours of the Dutch fleet 
captured by Sir George Keith Elphinstone, August 18, 
1796. Fifteen flag-officers and twenty-six captains ,at- 
' tended the procession ; and at the end of the flrst lesson 
entered in two divisions right end left of the King's chair, 
advanced to the altar, and there deposited ^e trophleii of 
their valour. 



When Sir John Jearvis was raised to the peerage, and the 
other flag-officers under his command were creafed baronets 
for their conduct in the battle off Ci^ St. Vincent, the latter 
raHk was offered to Vice Admiral Wald^frave ; this, however, 
he declined, as beitig inferior to that which he then held as an 
earl's younger son. 

He received the freedom of the City of London for his 
distinguished services, and on the 29th of December 1800,' 
previous to the Union, was created a peer of Ireland by the 
title of Baron Radstoek. * 

His lordship was promoted to the rank of admiral, April S9, 
180S, from which time he was not employed. At the public 
funeral of l^e gallant Nelson, Lord Radstoek attended the 
body by water from Greehwlch, and was one of the support- 
ers of the chief raoomcr, the late Sir Peter Parker, Ad- 
miral of the Fleet. He was nominated a G.C.B. January 
S, 1815. 

The honours conferred upon Lord Radstoek prove how 
distinguished he was in his profession ; yet there not having 
been any recent demand for his services, he of late years 
shone more brightly as a private than as a public charsctert 
No man was ever more consciendousty bent upon doing good 
than his lordship. A zealous advocate for the established 
church and government, the whole impulse of his warm feel- 
ings urged him towards their support. Of an active disposi- 
tion, which would not allow him to be unemployed, he was 
constantly engaged either in patriotically contributing to the 
public welfere, or in benevolently promoting the welfare of 
his fellow-creatures. The earnestness which he evinced iH 
these laudable pursuits was so remarkable as occasionally to 
tall forth the remonstrances of his friends, who were appre- 
henave that he might seriously injure himself by his exertions 
and sacrififfis for Ae benefit of o^rs. During the period at 
which the partisans o£ the French revolution were endeavour^ 

• Badstock, ID Qk countjr of Someraet, wu poMeswd by his fkrnlly udcs 
the reign of Henry the Eighth, by the mtiriafi«Df his wtraater. Sir Edward 



ing to disseminate in this country doctrines subversive of all 
social ordeiH Lord Radstock's pen was busily employed in 
writing loyal hand-bills, pamphlets, songs, &c. which he dis- 
tributed himself among all classes of the people. Many ar- 
ticles in the same spirit' were also furnished by him to the 
newspapers of tliat day ; and when the country, many years 
afterwards, was tlireatened with invasion, I^ord Radstock again 
exerted his whole powers in a simitar manner, to stimulate the 
patriotic feeling which was so universally displayed. Jo the 
intervab of professional service at sea during the war, he 
devoted his leisure to the alleviation of the distresses of the 
poor, by procuring tlie distribution of food to them at a cheap 
rate, in times of scarcity. When the Constitutional Associa- 
tion was formed, he became a warm friend to it, and prevailed 
upon many individuals of distinction to join in opposing the 
efforts of infidehty and disloyalty to seduce the people. Stre- 
nuously attached to the church, he always gave the Protestant 
cause his utmost support against the dangers with \^Hch, in 
bis opinion, it was menaced by the growing inSuence of the 
advocates of the Catholics. His strong and nei'er shaken 
sentiments on this point, led hun to seek and cultivate the 
acquaintance of Dr. Bell; and, convinced that early religious 
principles are the only foundation for the improvement of 
mankind, he was for many years a most active member of the 
committee of the National Central School. His r^ard for 
the church equally induced him to promote the interests of 
the Clergy Orphan Society, of which he was vice^resident. 
He was also vice-president of the Society for the Suppression 
of Vice, and of the Asylum for Female Orphans; both of 
which, for some years, derived inSuence from his support. 
He was likewise vice-president of the Blind Asylum (in the 
w^are of which he was much interested), and of the Mary- 
le-bone General Dispensary. Connected as he was with the 
navy, he was ever desirous of inculcating reli^ous knowledge 
among seamen. In the year 1797, as president of a court- 
martial which sentenced several mutineers to death, be made 
a seiious and impressive address on the occasion, which was 



adetwards printed and circulated through the fleet. After the 
victory of Trafelgar, he pr<Hnoted a large subscription for 
distributing to seamen, gratis, the Gazettes of our various 
naval victories* under the title of " The Woodoi Walb of 
Old England, or tlie British Flag triumphant;" with an ap- 
propriate address, in which their piety and their patriotism were 
equally excited ; the one as urging them to gratitude to their 
God for the mercies they had experienced, the other as stimu- 
lating them to further exertions in the glorious cause of their 
king and country. The improvement which has of late years 
taken place in the habits and morals of that large and valuable 
class of the community, the seamen, may be principally 
ascribed to the benevolent exertions of several distinguished 
and respectable individuals, on whom the laudable example 
set by Lord Kadstock was not lost To the interests of the 
of^rs of the navy, the noble lord was equally attentive. He 
availed himself of the national exultation and gratitude con- 
sequent on a succession of splendid naval victories to promote 
the regeneration of the Naval Charitable Society for the rehef 
of naval officers and their femilies reduced to indigence. A( 
the time of Lord Radstock's interference the funds of this 
Society were so low that very few applicants could be re- 
lieved. By urging the whole navy to subscribe, and by pro- 
curing extensive assistance among his friends, the capital of 
the society has, within these few years, been increased to 
upwards of 30,000/., besides a large annual subscription. On 
an average, about two hundred and sixty families are annually 
relieved, so that, while the British navy exists, this society 
will be a lasting monument to the memoiy of Lord Radstock, 
its re-founder and president. 

Nor, while he was thus engaged in promoting public charityi 
was Lord Radstock for a moment inattentive to the claims of 
private distress. Among many Instances in which his bene- 
volence was powerfiilly exerted in succouring the unfortunate, 
one of the most striking was that of the widow and family of 
n clergyman who actually died in the pulpit, in the discharge 
of bis sacred functions. Principal^ through Lord Radstock's 



aeal) the widow ditained no less a sum in varioos contributions 
than 6000/. ; and her children were all provided for. 

Lord Radstock had great taste in the fine arts, and his 
love o£ pictures became an irresistible passion. Even when 
the walls of his house in Portland Place were filled, he stilt 
continued to purchase, so that he has left a vety extensive 
and valuable collection. As he alwaj-s considered inferior pic- 
tares as rubbish, and the 'money expended upon them as thrown 
&way, he bought only such as were of high intrinsic merit ; 
and for these he frequently gave such sums as astonished those 
who were aware of his limited means as a younger brother.— 
He was a great patron of young arUsts. Many have had the 
benefit of studying the fine works in his collection ; and many 
in all departments of the art, whose merit was unknown, have 
experienced the warmth of his friendship in his endeavours 
to bring them into public notice. If there be any pursuiP in 
which a man can be happier than that of following the plough, 
the poetical peasant of Northamptonshire, Clare, must also 
feel deeply obliged to Lord Radstock for his kind zeal in his 

His lordship's death was occasioned by apoplexy; and 
occurred at his house in Portland Plac^ on the 20th of 
August 1825. On the 26th his remains were interred in the 
vault adjoining the north wall of the chancel of Navestock 
church, Essex ; where his &ther and grandfether, Earls of 
WaldegFEve, and other' members of his noble and ancient 
gimily, are likewise buried. 

In 1785, his lordship married at Smyrna, Cornelia-Jacoba, 
lecond daughter of David Van Lennep, Esq. chief of the 
Dutch fectory at that place, by whom he had a numerous 
issue. Two of his sons are in the navy ) the elder of whom. 
Captain the Haoourable George Granville Waldegrave, C. B. 
succeeds to the tide. 

Lord Radstock frequently sat for his portrait ; chiefly for 
the pmpose c^ encouraging and employing young artists. 
The best resemblance of him is a ^ctureby Hayter ; which 
has been engraved. 



The noble lord's will was proved, with eleven codicils, in 
the Prerogative Court, Doctors' Comtnons, on the 12th ojf 
S^tember, by the oaths of the Right Honourable Granville 
George Waldegrave, Lord Radstock, his son, and the Hcv- 
nourablf Sir James Allan Park, Knight, two of his executors; 
Sir Abraham Hume, Bart, the other executor, having re- 
nounced the trust. The personal property was sworn under 
80,000/. One of the codicils contains particular directions as 
to the sale of his lordship's pictures. A portrait of Charles I. 
by Vandyke, brought direct from the cabinet <^ the King of 
Spiun, and one of Henrietta Maria, nearly matchless in beauty 
and .expression, also by Vandyke ; and a landsciqie by A. Van- 
develde, are to be sold for Lady Radstock's benefit ; if by 
auction, to be placed below the twentieth lot, and til fiiends 
to be apprised of it, who, the noble testator trusts, will not let 
them be disposed of below their real value. But, upon the 
subject of sale, he desires that Mr. Emmerson, of Stratford 
Place, (whose skill in the arts, and whose integrity, he has for 
many years experienced,} may be consulted, who, if he cannot 
procure private purchasers, or an ofifer from Government, may 
consign the pictures to Christie for the hammer. His lordship 
values them at £i,000 guineas. They consist of Italian, 
French, Spanish, Dutch, and Flemish masters. Some ho- 
nourable testimonies of his lordship's services to his country 
are directed to remain in the family as heir-looms ; amongst 
others, a gold snuff-box and the freedom of the Ci^ of London, 
on occasion of the battie of St. Vincent's ; a gold medal from 
I^ Majesty on the same occasion, when he commanded the 
third division ; the engravings thereof; a ^t sword from his 
friend Admiral Lord Nelson ; a steel ditto, 8tc. Of other 
bequests, there is a cameo of an Ajax (once the pride of the 
celebrated Jennings) to his son, with various miniatures and 
enamels ; fifteen guineas for a &mily bible to Sir Allan Park, 
for hb life only, and then to revert to the testator's fomily ; 
many rings, and small sums to servants. The will is dated 
the 25th of January, 1820. There is no mention made of 
any real estates, 



The foregoing Memoir Is chiefly composed of the narrative 
in Marshall's Koyal Naval Biography, and a description of 
some valuable traits in the noble lord's character with which 
we have been favoured by a distinguished individual, who en- 
joyed ample <^portunitie(! of observing them. 


The Ret. HENRY KETT, B. D. 

Henry Kett was bom at Norwich, in the year 1761, and 
received his education at the grammar-school in that ci^, 
nnder the R«v. Mr. Lemon. Althou}^ not a professed pupil 
to the celebrated Dr. Pnrr, for some time master of that 
school, he has been oflen heard to acknowledge his obliga^ 
tions to that gendeman, who furnished him with instructions 
for die direction of his classical studies ; and how well he pro* 
filed by these, the concurrent testimony of the first scholars 
in the university to which he belonged will evince. In 1777, 
at the age of sixteen, he was admitted a commoner of Trinity 
College, Oxford, and was chosen scholar the following year. 
About the time that Mr. Kett took hb bachelor's degree, 
IVinity College was distinguished by several young men of 
talents and learning, among whom may be enumerated Ben- 
well, Headly, Bowles, and Dallaway, all since well known 
by their publications, particularly Mr. Bowles, erne of the most 
admired poets of his age. Mr. Wartoa was senior fellow, 
and with his usual affabili^ and attachment to young men t^ 
promise and merit, soon distingubhed Mr. Kett, and &voured 
him with his particular r^iard, which continued without di- 
minution until the period of his lamented death ; and we have 
some reason for thinking tliat Mr. Kett was not regardless of 
tiie posthumous iame of his iriend, but that he contributed a 
weil-written, though brief, life of him, to the Biogra^^cal 

Mr. Kett took the degree of A. M. November 26th, 1783; 
soon after which he was elected fellow, and a[^ointed one of 
the college tutors. Among some of his first pupils he num- 
bered the present Duke of Beaufort, and his next brother 

V iconic 


Lord Charles Somerset, to whom he paid unremitting atten- 
tion the whole time they were under his care; nor in the dis- 
charge of the important duties of his office, have we ever 
heard of an instance in which he did not unite the character 
of friend with that of tutor, and make himself as much be- 
loved by his affectionate concern for the interests of those 
committed to his charge, as be was respected by them for his 
superior endowments. 

^e very early commenced his theok^ical studies, nor did 
he give thent up on taking orders, as is too commonly the 
case* but pursued them with increasing ardour ; the efTect of 
a real attachment to his profession. In consequence of the 
&me he had acquired in this respect, he was ^pointed 
Bampton lecturer in 1790, we believe at an earlier age than 
usual ; and the University had no reason to be sorry for their 
choice. " His sermons (to use the words of a respectable 
critic,) are intended to support the orthodox system of doc- 
trine midntained by our established church, against the insi- 
Duationi or direct sXtacks of Dr. Middleton, Mr, Gibbon, and 
Dr. Priestley. His labours commence with an apoh^ for 
the &thers of the church, whose characters as historians, as 
learned men, and as faithful depositaries of the true doctrine 
of the gospel, he defends with great zeal and animation. In 
opposition to the animadverslpns of Mr. Gibbon, he vindicates 
the apolt^es of the primhive - Christians, and corrects the 
misr^resentations which Mr. G. had given of the causes 
which contributed to the propagation of the Christian laitb. 
Mr Kett afterwards undertakes to discuss and refute the lead- 
ing princ^les in Dr. Priestley's History of the early (pinions 
concerning Christ. The concluding sermons of the volume 
are employed in establishing the authenticity and inspiration 
Qf the books of tiie New Testament, and in tracing an ana- 
logy between the primitive church and the church of England, 
on which he bestows a warm and elegant eulogy. From the 
perusal of these sermons we have received a high degree of 
pleasure, ^though we have frequently found ourselves obliged 
to differ (ram the learned author in his Q>nstruction d the 



sense of ecclesiastical histoTy in his reasonings and dedtictions, 
TVe think him, however, entitled to very respectful attention, 
trom the unquestionable marks of learning and ingenuity 
which he discovers, which are likewise recommended by great 
manliness, perspicui^, and elegance of style." 

" I^s sermon on the earhest martyrs of the Christian 
church is written (say the critical renewers) in a style of elo- 
quence which we have seldom seen surpassed ;" and the learned 
and pious Mr. Jones, wdl known by his numerous theolc^cal 
and philosophical works, in his Ljfe of Bishop Home, com- 
mends Mr. Kett " for his very useful and learned Bampton 

But itwas not only in the defence of the doctrines of Chris- 
tianity that Mr. Kett distinguished himself; he was equally 
solicitous to show that their precepts influenced his practice. 
About the period of his being Bampton Lecturer, he exerted 
himself, in conjunction with other friends, in rescuing Dr. John 
Uri, a native of Hungary, one of the best oriental scholars in 
Europe, from indigence and distress. Iliis gendem'an had been 
sent for from the University of Leyden to Oxford, and had 
been employed, during the vigour of his faculties, in taking a 
catalogue of the oriental manuscripts in the Bodleian library; 
but growing infirm and old, without relations or friends in his . 
own country, he was discharged by the delegates of the press. 
By the benevolent interference, however, of Mr. Kett, Mr. 
Agutter,(nowSecretary of the Asylum), Mr. Smith, (afterwards 
Master of Pembroke College), and Dr. Parr, a handsome 
subscription was raised for his support; and the venerable 
scholar was placed in a situation of comfort m Oxford, where 
be passed the remaining part of his life. 

In the year 1787, we find Mr. Kett engaged with Mr. 
Munro, formerly of Magdalen Collie, and Dr. Home, afrer- 
wards Bishop of Norwich, in a periodical publication, under 
die title of Olia Podrida, to which several other distinguished 
scholars contributed. Thdi' essays were re-published in a col- 
lected form, and are replete with humour, good- sense, and 
acute observation. 



In l'79S he published a snsU collection* of "Javenilfi 
FbemB," stating " most of the verses in this collection have 
appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine." However nierito- 
rioiu these trifles of his muse appear, the author was after> 
vards very desirous to suppress them, and so sedulous to effect 
that intention, as to increase the value of this little volume 
above the usual proportion of modem publications. When 
the poems first appeared, the playful muse of Mr. Thomas 
^ "Warton snpplied the fidlomng epigram : 

" Our Kett not s poet t 

Why how can you aayfo? 
For if he's no Ovid, 
I'm sure lie's a Nata." • 

On the 13th of July, 1793, Mr, Kett took the degree of 
B. D. ; and in October he was a candidate for the Poetry 
Professorship against the Rev. James Hurdis, Fellow of Mag- 
dalen, but lost his .election by a majority of 20^ polling 181 
agunst 201. 

Alarmed at the r^id prt^ess of infidelity, and wishing to 
awaken in the minds of the public a due sense of the import- 
ance of religious truth, by the most striking ailments, de- 
rived from the divine predictions, in the year 1798 Mr. Kett 
published " Hist(»y, the Interpreter of Prophecy ; or, a 
View of Scriptural Prophecies, and their Accomplishment in 
the past and present Occurrences of the World." This work 
is written in a popular style, displays the most extensive 
reading and observation, and met with the approbation of 
persons of the first eminence for piety, judgment, and erudi- 
tion. Br. Tomline, the present Bishop of Winchester, inhis 
Elements of Christlaa Theology, called it " a very interesting 
work, penned with gi'eat judgment, uid which he recommends 
to all who are desirous of becoming acqnaintsd with the prot 
phedes of the Old and New Testam^it, eq)ecially those 
which relate to the present times," Vol. ii. p. 61. But th^ 

* See Mr. KeU'i chancteiistic portrait b; Dightoa, entitled, " A Tiew frasa 
Trinity College," wbldi u Do anfliTonble lUcDen of thit nUibh raw. 



af^tfobttioti of Dr. Porteus, Bishop of Ltrndon^ was much more 
distinctly expressed, and bis recommendation more warmly 
urged, in the following passage of bis eloquent Charge to bis 
Clergy, in 1799: — 

" This great and momentous truth, that the course of hu- 
man afibirs has ever been, and still is, (notwithstanding the 
present appearance of confusion and disord^ in the world) 
under the guidance and the controul of an Almighty and Ail- 
righteous Governor, directing them to these important pur- 
poses designated in the prophecies of holy wnt, (more particu- 
larly in those relating to the ris^ prc^pi^ss, and establishment 
of the power of Anti-Christ) the reader will find most ably 
eluddated and confirmed in Mr. Kett's * View of Scriptural 
Pn^hecies, and their AccompUshment in the past and present 
Occurrences of the World.' This very ingenious, and in 
several parts original work, is, in these times of general 
anxiety and dismay, peculiarly interesting and seasonable ; as 
fumisbing the best grounds of belief and confidence in a 
divine superintendence, the most awful and animated warnings 
to tbe infidel and libertine, and the most substantial consol- 
ation and support to the sincere Christian, to whom is held out 
this' most encouraging assurance, that whoever, or whatever 
church or nation, shall continue finnly attached in faith and 
practice to the Lord and Saviour of the World, in an age 
when he is crucified afresh, and put to open shame; and 
whoever shall resist the enticements of deceit, the sword of 
terror, and the torpor of indilKrence, shall come forth as silver 
that is tried in the fiirnace : for he that oiduretb unto the 
ml, thfl same shall be saved." 

This work went through several editions, and had a wide 
orculatitHi. The appUcation of prophecy to what Mr. Kett 
calls the infidel power of Anti-Christ is very ingeniiws. Itbas 
fi«qu«ntiy hai^ned that authors have, for various reasonp, 
flung a veil of m^tery over their works. SuA was the case 
with re^wct to the Letters of Junius, and the Pursuits of 
Liter^ure ; and such was the case with reelect to *' History, 
the Interpreter of Prophecy." Mr. Kelt acknowled^pd ob- 
c 3 



ligations to some concealed .coadjutor, and probably he had 
one, in the plan of the work at leasL 

The journal of A Tour to the L^es of Cumberland and 
Westmoreland, performed by Henry Kett, B. D^ in August, 
1798," was. published by Dr. Mavor in his British Tourist. 
It in not very Ton^ occupying only forty duodecimo pages. 
This was one of several similar lours which Mr. Kett was ac- 
customed to make duiing the long vacation. At the begin- 
ning of the revolution he visited France, intent on observing 
tiie changes then in progress, which made a deep impre^ion 
on his mind. 

In 1802, appeared "Elements of General Knowledge in- 
troductory to usefiil Books in the principal Branches of Lite- 
rature and Science, with Lists of the most approved Authors, 
including the best Editions of the Classics ; designed chiefly 
for the junior Students in the Universities, and the higher 
Classes in Schools." Hiis work, which was the result of 
Mr. Kett's studies for many years, contains much valuable 
information compressed within a moderate compass, and is by 
fiir the most useful book of the kind. It is adapted, indeed, 
for readers of almost every description, though more pecu- 
liarly suited to young academics, by whom it is still held in 
deserved estimation. 

" In docti discant, ec ament meminisse periti." 

It went rapidly through several editions, and, to adopt the 
language^ of Johnson on another occasion, "that tutor may be 
said to be deficient in his du^ who neglects to put it into the 
hands of his pupil." It reflects, indeed, no small credit on ihe 
abilities of Mr. Kett, that Dr. Barrow, the acute and elegant 
authcM- of an Essay on Education, should decline to treat a 
subject which foils within his consideration, because it had 
been discussed by our author. " I found jny intended ob- 
MTvations on foreign travel so ably anticipated in the Elements 
of General Knowledge, that I must have i^een under the ne- 
cessi^ either of transcribing Mr. Kett's elegant pages,* Or of 


hev. henry kett. 21 

giving the same arguments in a differeot and probaUy a less 
. attractive form." • Notwithstanding the general merit of ibe 
work, on its first ^^>earance Mr. Kett was assailed by a host 
of cridcs, g^Kat wd small ; and it was remarked that few meii 
coold have kept their temper so well as he did in rdnuning 
from any reply, or have acted so judiciously in avaiUng tum- 
self of all their corrections and su^;esttons which appeared 
worthy of adoption for the improvement of the later editions, 
without even deigning to notice his opponents, llie ninth 
edition has been very lately published^ 

In 1809, he pubUshed *' Lo^c made eaBy, or a shottt 
View of Aristotle's Method of Reasoning." Some palpable 
inaccuraciee in this treatise arising from haste, and too greti 
compression f^ the subject, exposed him to a very smart at- 
tack ; but, as usual, he offered no apdogy, and silently withr 
drew the work from circulation. In the same year speared 
" Em3y, a Moral Tale," of which a second edition, much en- 
larged, was published in 1812. A new edition of " The Beau- 
ties of English Poetry," by Mr. Headley, who had been, a 
- sdiolar of Trinity College, was undertaken by Mr. Kett in 
1810; to which he prefixed "A Sketch of the Life" of that 
el^;ant and accomplished seholaK A translation of Chateau- 
briand's work on the spirit or genius of Christiani^, under 
the title of " The Beauties of Christianity," published in 1 8 1 2, 
has been ascribed to Mr. Kett. We believe, however, that it 
was not written by him ; although he certainly fiimished the 
preiace and notes, and probably revised the whole. In 1814, 
appeared, in two volumes 12ma, ** Tite Flowers of Wit, or a 
Collection of Bon Mots, Ancient and Modem." For several 
years before his death, Mr. Kett was employed in preparing 
an edition of the Greek Proverbs, by Lubinus, with an English 
translati<Hi and notes ; and we imderstand this is left among 
his manuscripts, which will be noticed in tiie sequel. 

In 1808, Mr. Kett relinquished the ofBce of Public Tutor 
of Trinity CoU^e {in which he was succeeded by Dr. Ingram, 

* Advertiseitieiit to the kcoiuI edJtion «f an Ewaj on EduoUvm. 
c 3 


3f Rev. HENRY KETT. 

BOW President o^ Trinity College), and he shortly afterwards 
gave up all college offices, thou^ he continued to reside in 
College during b great part of the year. Even when he fonnd 
his bealth dedining, he stUl lingered in those academic shades 
which had become fitmiliar nod dear to biro fitNU fab eariiest 
youth ; and having surrendered his rocMUs in college, be toi^ 
lodgings in Oxford. Here he remained until bis marriage in 
December 1823, with Miss White, of Charlton, near Chel- 
tenham, a lady of considerable accomplishments; after whidi 
period he lived chiefly at Ch^lton> making occasional excur* 
sions to visit his iriends. It was on one of those excursions 
that the &tal accident occurred which put a period to his ex- 
istence. Having been for several days, in the latter end of 
June last, at the seat of his inend Sir J. Oibbcws, Bart, at 
Stanwell, on the SOth of that month be, as usual, break&sted 
with the family party in excellent spirits. About noon, the 
weather being hot, he proceeded to take a cold bath, when it 
is supposed that venturii^ out of his depth he was sdzed with 
cramp, luid sank to rise no more. Hb clothes wera fonnd on 
the bank where be had undressed for bathing. 

Mr. Ket^s first preferment was the small perpetual curacy 
of msdeld, near Oxford, for which he is said to have been 
indebted to the kindness of Dr. Chapman, the President of bis 
collie. He was also a king's preacher at Wbitehall. In 
1814, his friend and patron, Bishop Tomline, presented him 
to the perpetual curatyofHykebam, in the coon^ of Uncoln, 
the only prefenn^t aC which he died possessed j and whidi, 
as having neitber church nor parsonage^iouse, partocA very 
much of the nature of a sinecure. 

During the last twenty years of his life, Mr. Kett, bowwo-, 
had ihe -option «f all the best places of preferment beloogng 
to his collie ; but he conEftsOidy reiintjui^ed them wiUioat 
hesitation in &vor of his juniers ; and after he might have 
been considered eligiMe to the presidentship, he twice saw it 
giv^i to otb^s without an etxpression of dis^poiatment. Bat 
the same was the case in regard to that distinguished scholar 
and anui^e nan, Tbomiis Warton, B. D. and poet laureate, 



who was passed over in an election to the headship* and at 
the time of his death held no other college prefimnent thaa a 
small donative in Somersetshire. Mr. Kelt, indeed, was so for 
from aspiring to any thing his coll(^ had to bestow, that he 
made it some very handsome presents, which were acknow- 
ledged by baring bis coat of arms put up in the hall among 
other bene&ctors i and at one time, it is believed on good aui 
UuHity, that he had made a will, in which a conaiderable sun 
of money was lefl for the purchase of an advowsoR for tha 
benefit of the society to which be belonged. But in conse- 
qoence of his marriage, it now appears that the bulk of his 
fortune, sworn to be under 25,000/., after the pAylnent of 
some small legacies on the demise of bis widow, to whom tha 
interest and income are lefl for _lii^ is bequeathed to three 
public chanties (one of which is the Raddifie Infirmary at 
Oxford) in equal portions, thus evincing the benevolence of 
his dupogitJon, by what may be regarded as the last act of hit 


It is known fi»m an inspection of bis testamentary pap«s, 
wholly in hit own handr-wrtting, that he has left several 
manuscripts, among the rest a considerable number of sermon^ 
all of which he directs to be sobmitted to the decision of his 
friend Dr.Mavor, of Woodstock, whether th^y are worthy of 
publication or not. That the lamented author intended tbem 
for the press there can be little doubt ; and it is to be hoped 
that, in due time, they will see the light, or, at least, such of tbem 
as appear likdy to be acceptable to the public, and to add M 
the well-earned Suae of the writer. As a roan (^ correct taste 
and an elegant scholar, \i4iatever Mr. Kett produced could 
not be destitute of a. considerable portion of merit t and as 9 
divine, at once sound and deep, his works will be duly appre* 
dated by impartial posterity. To his Right Revovnd and 
venerable friend and patrtm, the presmt 6tsh<^ of Winchester, 
he has left the copyright of bis " History, the foterfveter <^ 
Prophecy," which, as ve have already reouwlced, has been 
highly spoken of by the best judges, and, among the rest, by 
the bishop hinuelE 

Q 4 



It would be difficult, if not impossible, in a work of this 
kind, to do justice to the various merits of Mr. Kett. He had 
filled the important office of tutor of his college for more than 
twen^ years, and had trabed up many in sound learning and 
good principles, who are now filling very respectable stations 
with credit to themselves; he had been some years an ex- 
amining master nnder the new system, was for a short time 
one of the select preachers, -which appointment be resigned, 
and at an early period of his life was chosen Bampton Lecturer. 
All those situations he filled with propriety, aud to the satis- 
faction of the illustrious University to which he belonged; 
and had be been of an ambitious turn of mind, he was cer- 
tainly qualified for, aad might have had the means of pro- 
curing a much higher station tiian ever fell to hb lot. But 
he possessed an independence of principle which prevented 
him from soliciting what, perhaps, he felt to be his due; and 
enj(^ng enough to satisfy all his moderate wants, he left: the 
scramble for preferment to more bustling candidates. Perh^s 
it would have contribated to the ccmifort of the lalter years 
of his life, had he felt the necessity for exertion, and been 
placed in a situation where it was required. Though natu- 
rally cheerful and acceptable to all classes and descriptions of 
persons, after he retired from the active business and engage- 
ments of his coll^^ he was occasiocalty subject to a depression 
of spirits, the common malady of literary men. In company, 
however, he was, to the last, aflbble, entertainuig, and in- 
structive, witbont the sl^test degree of pedantry or aflect- 
ation ; and it was only when presuming ignorance attempted 
to dogmatize, .that he assumed the scholar, and set down 
the silly pretender to knowledge, in a manner peculiarly 
his own. 

Among bis friends were the late Dr. Samuel Parr, to whmn 
be was much attached, and to whose interests on a particular 
occasion * he showed a high degree of benevolent attention. 
Hie present learned Pre»dent of Magdalen College, and 

■ See Uic Memoir of Dr. Forr in the pTeseDl volume. 



Dr. Tournay, Warden of Wadham, wtte always among his 
particular friends and associates in the UniTfersity, and they 
did honor to his choice. In short, there were few persons 
of any literary celebrity who were wholly unknown to Mr. 
Kett ; and young men of merit were always sure to find in 
his ldnd-heartednes9 and advice, not only counsel, but assist- 
ance in their various parsuits. 

It may be added, that as a preacher he was animated and 
impressive, without the slightest tincture of enlhnsiasm, which 
he always discouraged, as bdog inimical to the best interest^ 
of (he church to which he was sincerely devoted. As a 
writer, his general s^le partook more of neatness and el^ance^ 
than of ori^idity of thought and expression. Like his con- 
versation, it was rather calculated to please and convince, than 
to astonish and confound. In short, he was a man who bore 
his faculties meekly, and was beloved and esteemed by those 
who knew bim best. 

The seventh volume of the Public Characters has fiimished 
us with tlie earlier part of the preceding memoir. For the 
latter part (with the exception of two or three paragraphs 
from the Gentleman's Magamne, and a lew interesting &cts 
from another quarter) we are indebted to a gentleman, long 
on terms of the strictest intimacy with Mr, Kett, and eminently 
c[ualified to appreoate his merits in every respect 


No. III. 


We take th« liberty of transcribing s mem<nr of this exeel- 
lent and justly-celebrated womani prefixed to the exceedingly 
interesdng edition of her works (in two Toliimes, octavo}* 
recently published by her amiable and accomplished niece, 
Miss Lucy Aikin ; so wdl qualified, not less by congeniality 
of feeling and talent^ than by consanguini^ and indmatc 
knowledge of the subject, to be the biographer of her ve- 
nertible and bdoved reladon. - 

"AnnaLsUtiaBarbauId,anainelongdear to the admirers 
of genius and the lovers of virtue, was bom at the village of 
Kibworth Harcourt, in Leicestershire, on June 20th, 1743, 
the eldest child and only daughter of John Aikin, D.D., and 
Jane his wife, daughter of the Rev. John Jennings of Kib* 
worth, and descended by her mother fixtm the ancient fii- 
mily of Wingate, of Harlingtcn, in Bed&rdshire. 

" That quickness of ^prehension by which she was eminently 
distinguished, manifested itself from her earliest in&ncy. Her 
mother thus writes respecting her in a letter which is still 
preserved : ' I once indeed knew a litde ^1 who was as 
eager to learn as her instructors could be to teach her, and 
who, at two years old, could read sentences and litde stories 
in her wise book, roundly, without spelling, and in half a 
year more could read as well as most women ; but I never 
knew snch another, and I believe never shaE* 

*■ Her education was entirely domesti<^ and principally con- 
dncted by her ezcell«it mother, a lady whose manners were 
polished by the early introduction to good company, which 
her bmily connexions had procured her ; whilst her mind had 
been cultivated and her principles formed, partly by the in- 



sUuctions of religious and enlightened parents, partly by the 
society of the celebrated Dr. Doddcidge, who wu for smne 
years domesticated under her parental root 

" In the middle of the last century a strong prqudice still 
existed against in^Huting to females any tinctm-e of classical 
learning ; and the iatKer of Miss Aikin, proud as he justly was 
of her uncoDUDM) capadty, long refused to gratify her earnest 
desire of being initiated in this kind of knowledge. At lengthy 
however, riie in some degree overcame his scruples; and 
with his assistance she «iabled herself to read the Latin 
authors with pleasure and advantage ; nor did ^e rest satis- 
fied without gaining some ecquiantance with the Greek. 

** The obscure village of Kibworth was unable to aflbrd ber 
a un^ suitable oompanisn of her own sex: her brotberj 
the late Dr. Aikin, was more than three years her jtmior ; 
and as her father was at this period the master of a school 
for boys, it might have been a[^rehended that conformi^ of 
pnrsnits, as well as age, would tend too nearly to assimilate 
her with the youth of the ruder sex by whom she found her- 
self encompassed. But maternal vigilance effectually ob- 
viated this danger, by instilling into her a double portion of 
ba^ifulness and tnudeuly reserve ; and she was accustomad 
to ascnbe an uneasy sense of constraint in mixed society, 
which ^e could never entirely shake ofl^ to the strictness 
«id secJusMKi is which it had thus become her &te to be 
educated. Her recollections of childhood and early youth 
wei%, in &ct^ not associated with mocfa trf* the pleasure and 
gaie^ usually attendant upon that period of Itfe : hut it must 
.be regarded as a arcnrnstance favoraUe^ zather than other- 
wise, to the unfolding of her genios, to have been thus le^ 
to find, or make in solitude her own ol^ecta of interest and 
purswt. He love of rural nature sunk deep into her heart; 
ber vivid £uicy exerted itself to colour, to animate, and to 
^versify all die objects wbidi surrounded her: the &w but 
choice authmrs of her fttbor's library, wUdi she read and 
reread, had leisure to make their foil impresnoo, -^ to mould 
ber aratlments, and to form her taster the spirit of devotion, 



early inculcated upcm her as a duty, opened to her, by de- 
grees, an exhoustiess source of tender and sublime delight; 
and while yet a child, she wns surprised to find herself a 

** Just at the j)er)od when longer seclusion might have 
proved seriously injurious to her spirits,- an invitation giv^i 
to her learned and exemplary father to undertake the office 
of classical tutor in a highly respectable dissenting academy 
at Warrington, in I^ncoshire, was the fortunate means of 
transplanting her to a more varied and animating scene. 
This removal took place in 1758, when Miss Aikin had just 
attained the age of fifteen ; and the fifteen succeeding years 
passed by her at Warrington comprehended probably the 
happiest, as well as the most brilliant portion of her exist-. 
enc«. She was at this time possessed of great beauty, distinct 
traces of which she retained to the latest period of life. Her 
person was slender, her complexion exquisitely &ir, with 
the bloom of perfect health ; her features were regular and 
elegant, and her dark blue eyes beamed with llie] light of wit 
and &ncy. 

" A solitary education had not produced on her its most 
frequent ill effects, pride and self-importance: the reserve 
of her manners proceeded solely from bashfulness, for Iter 
temper inclined her strongly to friendship and to social plea- 
sures ; and her active imagination, which represented all 
objects tinged with hues * unborrowed of the suii,' served 
as a charm against that disgust witii common characters and 
daily incidents, which so frequently renders the conscious 
possessor of superior talents at <»ice unamiable and unhappy. 
Nor wW she now in wMit of congenial associates. War- 
rington academy included among its tutors names eminent 
both in science and in literature : with several of these, and 
especially with Dr. Priestley and Dr. Enfield and their 
femilies, she formed sincere and lasting friendships. The 
elder and more accomplished among the students composied 
an agreeable part of the same society ; and its animation was 
increased by a mixture of young ladies, either residents in 



the town or occasional visitors, several of whom were equally 
disUnguished for personal charms, for amiable manners, and 
cultivated minds. The rising institntion, which flourished 
for several years in high reputation, diffused a classic air 
over all connected with it. Miss Aikin, as was natural, 
took a warm interest in its success; and no academic has 
ever celebrated his alma mater in nobler strains, or with a 
more filial action, than she has manifested in that pration 
of her early and beautiful poem, Hie Invitation, where her 
theme is this * nursery of men for fiiture years.' 

"About the close of the year 1771, ter brother, after seve- 
ral years of absence returned to establish himself in his pro- 
fession at Warrington ; an event equally welcome to her feel- 
ings, and propitious to her literary progress. In him she pos- 
sessed B friend with discernment to recognise the stamp of genius 
in her productions and anticipate tlieir feme, combined with 
zeal and courage sufficient to vanquish her reluctance to appear 
before the public in the character of an author. By bis per- 
suasion and assistance her poems were selected, revised, and 
arranged for publication: and when all these preparations 
were completed, finding that she still hesitated and lingered, 
— like the parent bird who poshes off its young to their first 
flight, he procured the paper, and set the press to work on 
his own authority. The result mure than justified his con- 
fidence of her success : four editions of the work (the first in 
4to. the succeeding ones in 8vo.)) were called for within the 
year of publication, 177S; compliments and congratulations 
poured in from all quarters ; and even the periodical critics 
greeted her Muse with nearly unmixed applause. 

" She was not permitted to repose upon her laurels; her 
brother, who possessed all the activity and spirit of literary 
enterprise in which she was deficient, now urged her to 
collect her prose pieces, and to join him in forming a small 
volume, which appeared, also in the year 177S, under' the 
title of * Miscellaneous Pieces, in Prose, by J. and A. I>. 
Aikin.' Iliese likewise met witli much notice and odmir- 
Stibn, and have been several times reprinted. - The authors 



did not think proper to diatbguish thdr req>ective contribu- 
tions, and several of the pieces hare been geoerally mis- 
^)pnq>TiBted. The fragment of Sir Bertmnd in particular, 
though alien from the character €£ that brilliant and airy 
imagination which was never convwsant with terror^ and 
rarely with pity, has been repeatedly ascribed to Mrs. Bar- 
bauld, even in prinL 

" Havu^ thus lakl the foundation of a lasting reputation ki 
litdvtur^ Miss Aikio might have been expected to proceed 
with vigOT in rearing the superstructure; and the world 
awaited with impatience the result of her further efforts. But 
an event, the most important t^ her life, was about to sub- 
ject her to new influence, new duties, — to alter her station, 
her course of life, and to modify ev^i the bent of her mind. 
This event was her marriage, which took place in May 1774. 

** The Rev. Kochemont Barbauld, whom she honoured with 
her hand, was descended firom a &mily of French protestants. 
During the persecutions of Louis XIV., his grand&ther, 
then a boy, was carried on board a ship inclosed iu a cask, 
and ctmveyed to England. Here he settled, and had a son 
who became a clergyman of the Establisbment, and on the 
marriage of one of the dau^ters <£ George IL to the elector 
of Hesse, was i^pointed her chapUin, and attended ber 
to Cassel. At this place his son B«chem<mt was bom and 
passed his diildhood : on the brei^dng up of the household 
of tlie electress he ^lent a year at Paris, and then accom- 
panied his &lher to England, who destined him for the 
diurdi, but, somewhat unadvisedly, sent him for previous 
instruction to tlie djsaemtiag seminary of Warrington. The 
principles whid he here imbibed, inq>elled him to renounce 
all his expectations from the EstaUiShment; thou^ by such 
a reoundation, n^ch threw him upon the world without 
» profession and without fortune, he raised obstacles which 
might well have ai^>eared insuperable, to the coia4>letion of 
that unicm on whit^ he had long rested his fondest b(^>es 
of earthly felicity. Whilst the prospects of the young coupk 
were still (uQ of uncertain^, some distingvi^ed persona, 



amongst wbom was Mrs. Montague, — at once admiral of 
Misa Aikin and patrons of a more enlarged system of fanale 
education than vas tben prevalent^ — were induced to propose 
to herto establish under their auspices what might almost have 
been caUed a College for young ladies. On a distant view, 
the idea had something noble and striidng, but it was not 
calculftted to bear a close examination ; and it called forth from 
her the following remarks, well worthy of preservation, as a 
monument of h^ acuteness and good sense, and of the just 
and comprdiensive ideas which, at a rather early age, and 
witfi. dander opportunities of acquainting herself with tbe 
great world, she had been gabled to form'of the habits and 
acquirem«its most important to females, and particularly to 
those of rank and fashicm. It is also interesting as an in- 
stcHice of the humility with which she estimated her own ac- 

" ' A kind of Literary Academy for ladies (for that is what 
you seem to propose), where they are to be taught in a re- 
gular systematic manner the various branches of science, ap- 
pears to me better calculated to form such characters as the 
* Precieuse^ or the ' Femmes sfavante^ of Moliere, than good 
«ives or agreeable companions. Young gentlemen, who are 
to display tiieir knowledge to the world, should have every 
motive of emulati<Hi, should be formed into regular dasses, 
should read and dispute tt^ether, should have all the honors 
and, if one may so say, the pomp of learning set before them, 
to call up tii^r ardour; — it is their business, and they should 
apply to it 89 such. But young ladies, who ought only to 
have such e general tincture of knowledge as to make them 
agreeable companions to a man of sense, and to enable thrai 
to find rational entertainment for a s<^itary hour, shouki gain 
these aocom{Jisbments in a more C|uiet and unobserved man- 
ner : — subject to a. regulation like that of the ancient S^mr- 
tans, the thefts (^ knowledge in our sex are only connived at 
while carefoliy conceakd, and if displayed, punished witii 
disgrace. Ilie best way for itomen to acquire knowledge is 
6mn conversatitHi with a &ther, a brother or friend, in the 



way of family intercourse and easy conversation, and by nicli 
a course of reading as they may recommend. If you add to 
these an attendance upon those masters which are usually 
provided in schools* and perhaps such a set of lectures as 
Mr. Fei^^uacHt's, which it is -not uncommon for ladies to 
attend, I think a woman will be in a way to acquire all the 
learning that can be o( use to those who are not to teach or 
engage in any learned profession. Perhaps you may think, 
that having myself stepped out of the bounds (^female reserve 
in becoming an author, it is with ao ill grace I <^er these 
B^timents: but though this circumstance may destroy the 
grace, it does not the justice of the remark ; and I am Itill 
weU convinced lliat to have a too great fondness for books is 
little fiivorable to the hi^piness of a woman, especially one 
not in affluent circumstances. My situation has been pecu- 
liar, and would be no rule for others. 
. ■< * I should likewise object to the age pn^xised. Their 
knowledge oi^ht to he acquired at an earlier period, — geo- 
graphy, those languages it may be proper for them to learn, 
grammar, Stc., are best leamed from ^mut'nine to thirteai 
or fourteen, and will then interfere less with other duties. I 
should have httle hopes of cultivatii^ a fove of knowledge in 
a young lady of fifteen, who came to me ignorant and un- 
taught; and if she has laid a foundation, she will be able to 
purane her studies without a master, or with such a one <»ly 
as Rousseau ^ves his Sophie. It is too late then to be^n to 
lean. The empire of the passions is commg on; a new 
wOTld opens to the youthful eye ; those attadunents begin to 
be formed which infiuence the happiness c^ future life; — the 
care of' a mother, and that alone^ can give suitable attcn^on 
to this important period. At this period they have many 
things to learn which books and systems nevw taught The 
grace and ease of polished socie^, with the established modes 
of behaviour to every different dass of people ; the detail of 
domestic economy, to 'mtich they must be gradually mtro- 
■lueed; the duties, the proprieties of behaviour which they 
ut practise in their owa femily, in the families where they 



^isHi to t^eir feiendg, to tbeir acqtiuaUnce :— lastly, tl^. 
I^^yiour to theotber half oftJaeir species^ wiUi whom before 
tjief were hardly acqi^aintei], and who then begj^ to coort 
t}i^ notice ; the choice of proper acquaintance of that sex* 
^ ;Eirt to CQpvei^e with them with a happy mixture of easy 
pftliteitQsg and gnu^ful reserve, and to wear off by degrees 
wmedii^ of th^ ^lith bqshtiilness without injiiring virg^i 
d^if^acy. These are the acc<Haplishments which a young; 
wom^n has to learn frqm fourteen or tiflxen till she is mar- 
ried, or fit to be so ; and surely these are not to be learned In 
a school. They must be learned putly at h<^i^^ '^nd p^itly. 
by visits in genteel families : they cannot be taught where a 
number are together ; they capnot be taught wiljiout the most 
iptim^te knowledge of a young lady's temper, conneiuons, 
4»d views in liie; nor without an authority and influence 
established upon all the former part of her life. For all tb^^ 
reasons, it b my full opinion that the best public education 
cannot at tliat period be equally serviceable with — I had 
almost said — an indifierent private one. 

'f ' |bfy next reascui is, that I am not at all qualified for the 
tia^ I have seen a good deal of the manner of educatmg 
bqys, and loiow pretty well what is expected in the care of 
tfaem^ but in a girls' boarding-school I should be quite a 
novice : I never was at one myself, have not even the adr 
y^ato^ of ypunger sisters, which might have given me some 
qp^ctn of tile .management of girls ; indeed, for the early part 
of my life I conversed little with my own sex. In the village 
Vh^re I was, there were none to converse with; and this, I 
am sery sensible, has given me an awkwardness in many 
fommon thmgs, which would make me most peculiarly unfit 
for the education of my own sex. But suppose I were 
tqler^ly qualified to instruct those of my own rank ,■ — con- 
sider, that these must be of a class far superior to those I have 
lived amongst and conversed with. Young ladies of that rank 
ought to have their education superintended by a woman per- 
fectly well-bred, from whose manner they may catch that ease 
and, gracefulness whiph can only be learned froiQ the best 
VOL. X. n 



company ; and she should be able to direct them, (uid judge 
of flidr progress in every genteel accomplishment. I could 
not judge of their music, their dancing; and if I pretended to 
correct their air, they might be tempted to smile at my own ; 
for I know myself remarkably deficient in gracefulness of 
person, in my air and manner, end in the easy graces of con- 
rersation. Indeed, whatever the kind partiality of my &iends 
may think of me, there are few things I know well enough to 
teach thera with any satisfaction, and many I never could 
learn myself. These deficiencies would soon be remarked 
when I was introduced to people of lashion ; and- were it 
possible that, notwithstanding, I should meet with encourage- 
ment, I could never prosecute with any pleasure an under- 
taking to which I should know myself so unequal : I am 
sensible the common boarding-schools are upon a very bad 
plan, and believe I could project a better, but I could not 
execute it' 

** The arguments tluis forcibly urged, appear to have con-' 
vinced all parties concerned, tliat she was right in declining 
the proposal. Mr. Barbauld soon after accepted the charge 
of a dissenting congregation at Falgrave near Diss, and im- 
mediately before his marriage, announced, his intentiim .of 
opening a boarding-school at the neighbouring village of 
Palgrave in Suffolk. ■' 

** The rapid and uninterrupted success which crowned this 
undertaking, was doubtless in great measure owing to the 
literary celebrity attached to tiie name of Mrs. Barbauld, and 
to her active participation with her husband in the task of 
instruction. It fortunately happened, that two of the eight 
pupils with which Palgrave school commenced, were endowed 
with abilities worthy of the culture which such an instructress 
could alone bestow. One of these, William Taylor, Esq. of 
Norwich, known by his " English Synonyms," hb exqubite 
*' Iphigenia in Tauris," from the German, his " Leonorai" 
from Burger, and many other fruits of genius and extensive 
learning, has constantly acknowledged her, witli pride and 
affection, for the " mother of hb mind;" and in a biogra- 



phical notice prefixed to " The effected works of Frank 
Sayers, M.D." of the same city, author of the " Dramatic 
Sketches of Nordiem Mythology," he has thus recM^ed the 
congenial sentiments of hb iriend. ' Among the instructions 
bestowed at Palgrave, Dr. Sayers has repeatedly observed to 
me, that he most valued the lessons of English composition 
superintended by Mrs. Barbauld. On Wednesdays and Sa- 
turdays the boys were called in separate classes to her apart- 
ment: she read a &ble, a short story, or a moral essay, to 
them aloud, and then sent them back into the school-room to 
write it out on the slates in their own words. Each exercise 
was separately overlooked by her; the faults of grammar wer« 
obliterated, the vulgarisms were chastised, the Idle epithets 
were cancelled, and a distinct reason was always assigned for 
every correction ; so that the aru of enditing and of criticis- 
ing, were in some degree learnt together. Many a lad from 
the great schools, who excels in Latin and Greek, cannot 
write properly a vernacular letter, for want of some such 

" The department of ge<^aphy was also undertaken by 
Mrs. Barbauld ; and she relieved the dryness of a study seldnn 
rendered interesting to children, by so many lively strokes of 
description, and such luminous and attractive views of the 
connexion of this branch of knowledge with the revolutions 
of empires, with natitmal manners, and with the natural his- 
tory of animals, that these impressive lectures were always 
remembered by her auditors less among then- tasks than their 

" A public examination of the boys was always held at the 
close of the winter session : at the termination of the summer 
one they performed a play; and upon Mrs- Barbauld princi- 
pally devolved, — together with the contrivance of dresses and 
decorations, and the composition of prologues, epilt^es, toad 
interludes — the instruction of the young exhibitors in the art 
of declamation. In this branch she likewise excelled; and 
the neglected though delightful arts of good reading and grace- 



M speaking were nowhere taught with more assiduity and 

"In 1775 Mrs. BarbauM committetl to the press a smalt 
volume entitled " Bevo^onal Pieces compiled from the Psalms 
of David, with Thoughts an the Devotionnl Tnste, and on 
Sects Hiid Establishments." As a selection it did not meet 
with great success ; nor did the essay escape without some 
itnimadversiMi. It was atterwards separated from the Psalms 
uid reprinted with the Miscellaneous Pieces, and will be fur- 
ther noticed in the sequel. 

" The union of Mr. and Mrs. BaubauM proved unfruitful, 
and th^ sought to fill the void, of which in the midst of their 
busy avocations they were still sensible, by the adoption of a 
son out of the family of Dr. Aikin. Several particulars rela- 
tive to this subject will be found in the letters of Mrs. Bar- 
bautd to her brother : — it Is sufficient here to mention, that 
they received the child when somewhat under two years of ^;e, 
and that his education became thenceforth a leading oi^ect of 
Mrs. Barbauld's attention. For the use of her little Charles 
^e composed those " Early Lessons" which have justly gained 
for hor the reverence and love. of both parents and children ; 
a work \(hic1i may safely be asserted to have formed an sera 
in the art of early instruction, nnd to stand yet unrivalled 
amid numberless imitations. 

" The solicitations of parents anxiousto obtain for tbeir sons 
what they regarded as the best tuition, now induced her to re- 
ceive as her own peculiar pupils several little boys, to whom 
she condescended to teach the 6rst rudiments of literature, 
Thomas Denman, Esq., now a distinguished member of the 
legal profession and of the Monse of Commons, was com- 
mitted to her care before he had accomplished his fourth year* 
Sir "William Gell, llie eealous explorer of the plain of Troy, 
was another of her almost infant scholars ; and it was for the 
benefit of this younger class that her " Hymns in Prose for 
Children" were written, in which it was her peculiiar object (to 
use her own words in the pre&ce) ' to impress devotional 



feelings as early as possible on the infant mini!,' — ; ' to im- 
press tli<an, by connecting religion yt'it-ii a variety 6f a^Dsil^ 
.o^jects^ with all that he sees, all he hears, all that afTectslHS 
yoHhg miad with wonder ot delist j aad thus, by cle«p, 
etroDg, and perman^it associatkuis, to lay die best fbuudatioq 
for practical devotion in future Ufe/ 

" None of her work.i is a fairer nionuaient than this, of the 
4}le«a£ion of hei- soul and the brightness of her genius. While 
discarding the akl of vers^ she every where bursts fortb into 
|)oetry ; — wb^e stooping t» the comprehension of inlancy, she 
lias jwodiiced a precious matiual of devotion, funded onthe 
contemplation of natnre, £tted to delight the taste and warm 
ihe piety of the most accomplished minds and finest ^irits. 

" Meuitime Falgrave scliool was progressively increasing in 
numbers and reputation, and several sons of noble &miUe$ 
Iwere sent to share in its advantages ; of whom may b« named, 
the late amiable and lamented Basil Lord Daer (a favourite 
pupil), and three of his tHx>thcrs, including the last Earl of 
^dkirlc; two sons of Lord Templetown, Lord More, Lord 
Aghriin, and the Honourable Augustus Phipps: these, who 
were pariour-boarders^ enjoyed most of the benefit of the coi*- 
versation and occasional instructions of Mxs. 3arbauld ; and 
«11, it is believed, quitted the school with seutlmeots towards 
her of high respect and attachment. 

" A cours^ of honourable and prosperous exertion must 
always be productive of satisfaction to a weIl-K:onstituted raiad ; 
and in this view Mrs. Barbauld mignt regard with complo- 
-cency her situation at Palgrave. Its cm'es and its a>onotony 
were also relieved by vacations, which she and Mr. Barbauld 
4isHally passed either in agreei^le visits to their friends in dif- 
-ferent parts of the country, or in the m(n« animated delights 
«f London society. As thrar connexions were extensive, they 
-were now enabled to prociffe themselves a consldei^le share 
of that amusing and instructive variety of scenes and diarao 
ters which forms the peculiar chai-m of the metr<^lisi^ At IJM 
splendid man»on of her eariy and constant admirer Mra. 
Montague, Mrs. Barbauld beheld in perfection the impomaig 



union of literature and tttshion ; — under the humbler roof of 
her fiiead and publbher, the late worthy Joseph Johnson of 
St Paul's Church-yard, she tasted, perhaps with higher relish, 
' the feast of reason and the flow of soul,' in a chosen knot 
of lettered equals. Her own connexions introduced her to 
leading characters among the dissenters and persons of oppo- 
sition-politics ; — those of Mr. Barbauld led her among 
counters and supporters of the establishment. Her own can- 
did spirit, and courteous though retiring manners, with the va- 
ried graces of her conversation, recommended her alike to all- 

" The business of tuition, however, to those by whom it is 
fkithlully and zealously exercised, must ever be fatiguing b^ 
y<Hid almost any other occupation ; and Mr. and Mrs. Bar^ 
bauld found their health and spirits so much impaired by their 
exertions, that at the end of eleven years they determined 
upon quitting Palgrave, and allowing themselves an interval 
of complete relaxation before they should again embark in any 
scheme of active life. Accordingly, in the autumn of 1785 
they embarked for Calais ; and ailer extending their travels m 
far as Geneva, returned to winter in the south of France. In 
the spring they again bent their course northwards, and alter a 
leisurely survey of Paris returned to England in the month of 
June 1786. The remainder of that year they passed chieRy 
in London, undecided with respect to a future place of resi- 
dence ; but early in the following one, Mr. Barbauld having 
been elected their pastor by a small dissenting congregation at 
Hampstead, they fixed themselves in that agreeable village, 
where for several years Mr. Barbauld received a few young 
gentlemen as his pupils, while Mrs. Barbauld gave daily in- 
structions to a young lady whose mother took up her residence 
at Hampstead for the benefit of this tuition: — some years 
afier, she accepted another pupil on a similar plan. 

" Her brother, who placed no small part of his own pride in 
the efforts of her genius and the extension of her fame, ob- 
served with little complacency that her powers were wasted in 
supineness or in trivial occupations; and early in 1790 he 
apostn^hized her in the following sonnet : 



Tlius speaks the muse, and beods her brow severe : — 
" Did I, Lsetitia, lend my choicest lays, 
And crown thy youthful head with freshest bays. 
That all the' expectance of thy full-grown year 
fflioald lie inert and fpuitlesa ! O rerere 
Those sacred gifts whose meed is deathless praieer 
Whose potent charms the' enraptured soul can raise 
Far from the vapours of this earthly sphere 1 
Seize, seize the lyre I resume the lofty strain I 
'Tis time, 'tis Lime ! hark how the nations round 
With jocund notes of liberty resound, — 
And thy own Corsica has burst her chaia ! 
let the song to Britain's shores rebound. 
Where Freedom's once-loved voice is heard, alas ! in vain.'' 

This fliii'mating expostulation conspiring with the events df 
the spirit-stirring times which now approached, had the efiect 
of once more rousing her to exertion. In 1790, die rgectioh 
of a bill for the repeal of the Corporation and Test Acts called 
forth her eloquent and indignant address to the opposers of 
this repeal : Iier poetical epistle to Mr. Wilbeforce on tlJe re- 
jection of the bin for abolishing the Slave Trade was written 
in 1791. The next year produced her " Remarfeson Mr.ffil- 
bert Wakefield's Inquiry into the expediency and propriety 
of public or social Worship :" and her "Sins of GovernniBiTt 
Sins of the Nation, or a Discourse for the Fast," appeared m 
1798. She also supplied some valuable contribtitions to 
Dr. Aikin's popular book for children, " Evenings at Home," 
the first volume of whicli t^peared in 1 792 ; but her share m 
this work has generally been supposed much greater than in 
tact it was ; of the ninety-nine pieces of which it consisted, 
fourteen only are hers. * 

" By this time, the effervescence caused by the French re- 
volution had nearly subsided; and Mrs. Barbauld, who could 

" • IlieJ tm die follovitig i— The Yoong Mou»b ; TheWaqi «nd Bee ; Al&nd, 
■ dntna; Animals add ColiDlriea ) CwauU'i Reprmr; Tbe Moaqae of Naton ; 

Things bytheir right NamcB; The Goose and Hone ; On MaDuractures ; The 
Fljing-fith ; A Leuon io the Art of Distinguiabing ; The Fhicnii and DoTe'; 
The Marnifacture of Paper ; The Pdnr Ssten. — In a new edition will be adAid, 

D i 



seldom excite lierself to the Jabour of composition, except od 
the spur of occasion, gave nothing more to the public for a 
considerable numljer of jears, with the exception <^ two 
critical essays ; one prefixed to an ornamented edition of 
" Akenside's Heasures of ImaglnatiOTi," the other to a similar 
one of the " Odes of Collins :" of which the first appeared in 
1 795, Uie second in 1 797- Both we written with ele^nce, 
taste, and acuteness : but, rai the whole, they are less marked 
with the peculiar features c^her style than perhaps any other 
of her prose pieces. 

"No event worthy of mention occurred tSi 1802, when 
Mr. Barbauld accepted an invitation to become pastor of the 
congregation (formerly Dr. Price's) at Newington Green-; 
and, quitting Hampstead, they took up their abode in the 
village of Stoke Newington. The sole motive for this re- 
moval, which separated them from a residence which diey 
liked) and friends to whom they were cordially attached, was 
the mutual desire of Dr. Aikin and Mrs. Barbauld to pass llie 
.dosing period of their lives in that near neighbourhood which 
.admits of the daily and almost hourly intercourses of affec- 
tion, —r a desire which was thus afiectingly expressed by the 
former in an epistle addressed to his sister during her visit to 
Geneva in 1785- 

'Yet onedear wish EtiU struggles in my breast. 
And points ooe darltog object unpossest : — 
How many years have whirled tlieir rapid course. 
Since we, sole streamlets from one honoured source. 
In food aAection as in blood allied, 
Have wandered devious frotn each other's side ; 
Allowed to catch alone some transient view, 
Scarce long enough to think the vision true ! 
then, while yet some zest of life remains, 
While transport yet can swell the beating veins, 
While sweet remembrance keeps her wonted seat, 
Amt foncy edit retains some genial heat; 
When evening bids each busy task be o'er, — 
Once let us meet again, to part no more ! ' 
The Cveaiiig which was the object of these earnest aspirations 
had now arrived ; and it proved a long, Uiough by no means 



tat uDcloucled one ; — twenty years elapsed before tbe hand 
of dealli sundered this fraternal pair. 

" A warm atta^ment to the authttf s of what has been called 
tii6 Augustan age of English literatnre, — on whom her own 
teste and style were formed,-— was observable in the coo^ 
versatifMi of Mrs. Bturbauld, and often in her writings ; and 
she gratified this sentiment by o&ring to the public, in 1804) 
a selection from the Spectator, Tatler, GuaTdian, and Free- 
bcdder, with a Preliminary £ssay, to which she gave her 
name. * This delightful piece may, perhaps, be regaided as 
the niost successiul of her efforts in literary criticism ; and 
that it should be so is easily to be accounted for. There 
were many striking points of resembluwe between her genius 
and that of Addison. As prose writers, both were remarkable 
for uniting wit of the light and spoilive kind with vividness 
of fency, and a style at once rich and lively, flowing and full 
of idiom : both of them rather avoided the pathetic : in both, 
' the sentiments of rational and liberal devotion' Were 
* blended with the speculations of philosophy and the pfunt* 
ings of a fine imagination ;' both were admirable for ' the 
^lendonr they diffused over a serious, the grace with which 
they touched a lighter subject.' The humorous delineation 
of manners and characters indeed, in which Addison so coa- 
-^icuously shone, was never attempted by Mrs. Barbauld : — 
in poetty, on the other hand, slie surpassed him in all the 
qualities of which excellence in that style is composed. Cer- 
tainly this great author could not elsewhere have found a 
critic so capable of entering, as it were, into the soul of his 
writings, cullii^ their dioicest beauties, and drawing them 
forth (or tiie admiration of a world by which they had begun • 
to be neglected. Steele, and the other contributors to these 
periodicid papers, are also ably, Ihough bii^y, characterized 
by her; and such pieces of theirs are included in the selecti«i 
as ccwld fairly claim enduring remembrance. 

" The essay opens with the observation, ' that it is equally 

true of books as of their authors, that <Hie generation passeth 

• TlatK Toll. ISmo, Johnson, 1804. 



away and another cometh.' The mutual iDfluence exerted 
by books and manners on each other is then remarked ; and 
the silent and gradual declension from what might be called 
the active life of an admired and popular book, to the honour- 
aUe retirement of a classic, is lightly, hut impressively, traced; 
closed by remarks on the mutations and improvements which 
hare paiticularly affected the works in question. To young 
persons chiefly, the selection is offered, as containing the 
* essence' of a celebrated set of works. An instructive account 
is added of each of these in particular, of the state of society 
at the time of their appearance, the objects at which they 
aimed, and their eifects. This essay will not be found in the 
present volumes, because it was considered that to separate it 
from the selection which it was written to introduce, would be 
to defeat its very purpose. 

"During the same year (1804) Mrs.BaHaautd was prevailed 
upon to undertake the task of examining and making a 
selection from the letters of Richardson, the novelist, and his 
oHTespondents, of which a vast collection had remained in 
the hands (^ his last surviving daughter ; afler whose death 
they were purchased of his grand-children. It must be con- 
fessed that, on the whole, these letters were less deserving of 
public attention than she had probably expected to find them ; 
and very good judges have valued more than all the remain- 
ii^ contents of the six duodecimo volumes which they occupy, 
the elegant and interesting life of Richardson, and the finished 
reviewal of his works prefixed by the editor. 

" It is probable that Mrs. Barbautd consented to employ 
herself in these humbler ofGces of literature, chiefly as a 
solace under the pressure of anxieties tmd ^prehensions of a 
peculiar and most distressing nature, which had been increas- 
ing in urgency during a long course of time, and which found 
their final completion on the 11th of November 1806, in the 
event by whicli she became a widow. She has toochingly 
alluded) in her poem of " Eighteen Hundred and Eleven," to 

>— ' that sad death whence most affection bleeds. 
Which sickness, only of the sout, precedes.' 


And though the escape of a sufferer from the most melancholy 
of htiman maladies could not, in itself, be a subject of rati<Hial 
regret, her spirits were deeply wounded, both by the severe 
trials through which she hnd previously passed, and by the 
mournful void which always succeeds the removal of an object 
of long and deep, how^ever painful, interest. An afiecting 
dirge will be found among her poems, which records her 
feelings on this occasion. She also communicated to the 
Mondily Repraitory of Theology and General Literature, a 
memoir of Mr. Barbauld; in which his character is thus 

** * The scenes of life Mr. Barbauld passed through were 
common ones, but his character was not a common one. His 
reasoning powers were acute, and sharpened by exercise; for 
he was early accustomed to discussion, and argued with great 
clearness ; with a degree of warmth indeed, but with the most 
perfect candour towards his opponent. He gave the most 
liberal luitude to free inquiry, and could bear to hear those 
troths attacked which he most steadfastly believed ; the more 
because he steadfastly believed them; for b« was delighted to 
submit to the test of argument those truths which he had no 
doubt, could, by argument, be defended. He had an un» 
common flow of conversation on those points which had 
engaged his attention, and delivered himself with a warmth 
and animation which enlivened the driest subject. He was 
equally at home in French and English literature; and the 
exquisite sensibility of his mind, with the early culture his 
taste had received, rendered him an excellent judge of all 
those works which appeal to the heart and the imagination. 
His feelings were equally quick and vivid; his expressive 
countenance was the index of his mind, andof every instanta- 
neous impression made upon it. Cliilrlren, who are the best 

' physiognomists, were always attracted to him, and he delighted 
to entertain them with lively narratives suited to their age, in 

-which he hod great invention. The virtues of his heart will 
be acknowledged by all who knew him. His benevolence 
was enlarged : it was the spontaneous propensity of his nature* 



«s wdl as Uie result of bis religious system. He was template, 
almost to abstemiousness; yet without any tincture of ascetic 
rigour. A free, undaHOted spirit, a winning simplicity, 9 
tendency to enthusiasm, but of tlie gentle and liberal kind, 
formed the prominent lineaments of his <^racter. The social 
affections were all alive and active in himv His heart over^ 
flowed with kindness to idl, — the lowest that came within hie 
'Sphere. There never was a human being who had less of the 
selfish and worldly feelings, — they hardly seemed to form a 
part of his nature. His was truly the charity which thinketh 
no ill. Great singleness of heart, and a candour very opposite 
to the suspicious temper of worldly sagacity, made him ^ow 
to impute unworthy motives to the actions of hb fellow-men ; 
yet his candour by no means sprung from indiffi^ence to 
moral rectitude, for when he could no longer resist com-iction, 
his censure was decided and his indignation warm, and warmly 
expressed. Hia standard of virtue was bigh, and he felt uo 
propensities which disposed him to lower it. His rdigious 
sentiments were of the most pure and liberal cast ; and bis 
jHilpit services, when the state of his spirits seconded the 
ardour of his mind, were «haracterized by the rare union of a 
fei'vent spirit <^ devotion, with a pure, sublime philosophy, 
supported by arguments of metaphysical acuteness. He did 
iiot speak the language c^ any pxrty, nor exactly coincide 
with the systems of any. He was a believer in the pre-exi^t- 
ence of Christ, and, in a certain modified sense, in the atone- 
ment ; thinking those doctrines most consonant to the tenouT 

of Scripture but he was too sensible of the difficulties 

which press upon every system, not to feel indulgence for all, 
-and he was not zealous for any doctrine which did not aflect 
the heart. Of the moral perfections of the Deity he had the 
purest and most exited ideas ; on tltese was chiefly founded 
his system of religion, and these, togetlier with his own bene- 
vol^it naliire, led him to embrace so warmly bis &vourite 
doctrine of the final salvation of all the human race, and, in- 
deed, the gradual rise and perfectibility of all created existence. 
.«. .li .. His latter days were oppressed by a morind affection 



of ht« spirits, in a great d^ree hereditary, which came gra-f 
dually upoti faim, ami closed the scene of his earthly nseliil- 
oess ; yet in the midst of the irritation it occasioaied, the kind'» 
ness of his nature broke forth, and Bome of his last acts were 
acts of benevolence.' 

" Mrs. Barbauld had the fortitude to seek reUef from de- 
jection in literary occupation ; and incapable as yet of any ' 
stranger eflbrt, she consented to edit a collection of the Bri- 
tish Novelists, which issued from die press in 1810. The 
Introductory Essay shows extfait of reading combined with hep 
usual powers of style; and the Bio^^hical and Critical 
Notices prefixed to the works of each author are judiciously 
and gracefully executed. 

" In the following year she compiled for the use of young 
ladies an agreeable collection of verse and prose, in one 
volume 12mo. entitled " The Female Speaker." Having thus 
braced her mind, as it were, to the tone of original composi- 
tion, she producetl that beautiful offspring of her genius* 
*' Eighteen Hundred and Eleven," — ■ tbe longest, and perhaps 
the most highly fiobhed, of all her poems. The crisis at 
which this piece was produced, and concerning which it 
treats, was confessedly one of tbe most distressful within the 
memory of the present generation, and the author's own state 
of spii'its deepened the gloom. She, like Cassandra, was 
the prophetess of woe : at the time, she was heard perhaps 
witli less- incredulity, but the event has happily discredited 
her vaticination in every point. Tliat the solemn warning 
which slie here attempted to hold forth to national pride 
and confidence, should cause her lines to be received by the 
public with less applause than their intrinsic merit might well 
have claimed, was perhaps in some degree to be expected ; 
that it would e:^Dse its author — its venerable and female 
author — to contumely and insult, could only have been an- 
ticipated by those thoroughly acquainted with the instincts of 
the hired assassin of reputation shoodng from his coward 
ambu^. Can any one read the touching apostrophe, 
Vet, O my coantry, naBie belovad, r*v«r«d I 



tbe prood nnd affectionate enumeration of the names which 
encircle the brow of Britain with the halo of immortal glory ; 
of the spots ccmsecrated by the footsteps of genius and virtue* 
where tbe future pilgrim Irom the West would kneel with 
beating heart ; the splendid description of London with all 
its 'pomp and drcumstance' of greatness, — the complacent 
allusion to < angel charities,' and * the book of life ' held 
out * to distant lands,' — -and doubt for a moment that this 
strain was dictated by the heart of a true patriot, a heart 
which feared because it fondly loved? 

" This was the last of Mrs. Barbauld's squirate- publica- 
tions. Who indeed, that knew and loved her, could have wished 
her to expose again that honoured head to the scorns of the 
unmanly, the malignant, and the base ? Her fency was still 
in all its brightness ; her spirits might have been cheered and 
her energy revived, by the cordial and respectful greetings, 
the thanks and plaudits, with which it was once the generous 
and graceful practice of contemporary criticism to welcome 
the re-appearance of a well-deserving veteran in the field of 
letters. As it waa, though still visited by 

.... the thoughts that voluDtary move 
Harmonious numbersj 

she for the most part confined to a few friends all participa- 
tion in the strains which they inspired. She even laid aside 
the intention which she had entertained of preparing a new edi- 
tion of her Poems, long out of print and often inquired for in 
vain : — well knowing that a day must come when the sting of 
Envy would be blunted, and her memory would have its feme. 
" No incident worthy of mention henceforth occurred to 
break the uniformity of her existence. She gave up all 
distant journeys ; and confined at home to a narrow circle of 
connexions and acquaintance, she suflTered life to slide away, 
as it were, at its own pace, 

Nor. Bhaok the outbaBting sands, nor bid them stay. 
An asthmatic complaint, which was slowlj^ undermining her 
excellent constitution, more and more indisposed her for any 



considerable exertion either of mind or body : but the arrival 
of fi visitor had always the power to rouse her from a state 
of languor. Her powers of conversation stirred little de- 
clension to the last, although her memory of recent circum- 
stances became somewhat impaired. Her disposition, — of 
which sensibility was not in earlier life the leading feature,— 
now mellowed into soUness, pleasingly exhibited - 

Those tender tints that only time can give. 

Her manners, never tainted by pride, — which, with ifae 
baser but congenial affection of envy, was a total stranger 
to her bosom, — were now remarkable for their extreme hu- 
mility : she spoke oT every one not merely with the candour 
and forbearance which she had long practised ; but with in- 
terest, with kindness, with an indulgence which sometimes 
appeared but too comprehensive; she seemed reluctant to 
allow, or believe, that any of her fellow-creatures had a 
Ming, while she gave them credit gratuitously for many 
virtues. This state of mind, which, with her native acute- 
ness of discerament, it must apparently have cost her some, 
struggles to attain, had at least the advantage of causing her 
easily to admit of such substitutes as occurred for those con- 
temporary and truly congenial friendships which, in the 
course of nature, were now fast failing her. She lost her 
early and aflecdonate Iriend Mrs. Kenrlck in 1819. In De- 
cember 1822 her brother sunk under along decline, which 
had served as a painful preparation to the final parting. A few 
months later she lost, in the excellent Mrs. John Taylor of 
Norwich, perhaps the most intimate and most highly valued 
of all her distant friends ; to whose exalted and endearing 
character she bore the following well-merited testimony in a- 
letter addressed to one of her daughters. 

" ' Receive the assurance of my most affectionate sympathy 
in those feelings with which you must be now contemplating 
the loss of that dear woman, so long the object of your re- 
spect and affection ; nor indeed yours only, but of all who 
knew her, A prominent part of those teelings, however, must 



be, tbat the dear object of theaa b released from sufferu^, 

has fiebhed her task, and entered upon her reward 

Never will she be forgotten by those who knew her I Her 
strong sense, her feeUog, her energy, her principle her patriot 
feelings, her piety, rational yet ardent, — all these mark & cha- 
racter of no common sort. When to these high cl^ms upoii 
general regard are added those of relation or &iend, the 
feeling must be such as no course of years can eflfece.' 

" A gentle and scarcely perceptible decline was now sloping 
for herself the passage to the tomb: — she felt and hailed 
its progress as a release from languor and infirmity, — 
a passport to another and a higher state of being. Her 
frientk, however, flattered themselves that they might con- 
tinue'to enjoy her yet a little longer; and she had consented 
to remove under the roof of h^ adopted son, that his affec- 
tionate attentions and those of his family might be the solace 
of every remaining hour. But Providence h»d ordiuned it 
otherwise : — she quitteil indeed her own house, but whilst 
on a visit at the neighbouring one of her sister-in-law Mrs. 
Aikin, the constant and beloved friend of nearly her whole 
life, her bodily powers gave way almost suddenly ; and a&er 
lingering a few days, on the morning of Mardi the 9tht 1625, 
she expired without a struggle, in the eighty-secptid year of 
her age. 

" To clum for this distinguished woman the praise of pu- 
rity and elevation of mind may well appear superfluous. Her 
education and connexions, the course of her life, the whole 
tenour of her writings, bear abundant tesdmonj to this part 
of her character. It is a higher, or at least a rarer commen- 
dation to add, that no one ever better loved *a sister's praise,' 
even tb^ of such sisters as might have lieen peculiarly re- 
garded in the light of rivals. iShe was acquainted with alpiost 
all the prininpal female writers of her time; and there was not 
one of the number whom she fsiled frequently to mention in 
terms of admiration, esteem or affection, whether in conversa- 
tion, in letters to her friends, or in print. To humbler aspi- 
rants in the career of letters, who oilen applied to her for od- 



-vice or assistance, sbe was invariably courteons, and in numy 
instances essentially serviceable. The sight of jnouth and 
beauty was peculiarly gratifying to her &ncy and her feelings ; 
and children and young persons, especially females, were ac- 
cordingly targe sharers in her benevolence : she loved their 
sodety, and would often invite them to pass weeks or months 
in her house, when she spared no pains to amuse and instruct 
(hem ; and she seldom failed, after they had quitted her, to 
recall herself ft-om time to time to their recollection, by affec- 
tionate and playful letters, or welcome presents. 

" In the conjugal relation, her conduct was guided by the 
highest principles of love and duty. As a sister, the uninter- 
rupted flow of her aftection, manifested by numberless tokeras 
of love, — not alone to her brother, but to every member of 
his family, — will ev«: be recalled by them with emotions of 
tenderness, respect, and gratitude. She passed through a 
long life without having dropped, it is believed, a single 
friend^ip, and without having drawn upon herself a single 
enmity which could properly be called personal. 

" We now proceed to offer some account of the contents of 
the present volumes, with a few remarks on the genius of their 
autlior. 'fhe small bulk of the writings of Mrs. Barbauld, 
compared with the long course of years during which she ex- 
ercised the pen, is a sufficient proof that she offered to thd 
public none but the happiest inspirations of her mnse, and 
not even these till they lind received all the polish of which 
E^e judged them susceptible. To a friend who had expressed 
hie surprise at not finding inserted in her volume a poem 
which he had admired in manuscript, she well and charac- 
teristically replied) * I had rather it should be asked of 
twenty pieces why they are not here, than of one why it is.* 
Her representatives have in the present instance followed, to 
the best of their judgment, a similar principle of selection, 
Ottt of a considerable number of pieces which appear front 
Aeir dates to have been rejected by herself from heir first 
publicaticHi, they have printed only two; that agreeable ^'h( 
teetpritj " The Inventory of tiie Fumlture of Dr. Prifestley* 

VOL. X. K 



Study)" probably omitted in the first instance for reasons 
which DO longer eadst ; and the elegant lines on " The De- 
serted Village," which are given partly for the sake of con- 
Decting the name of th^r author as a contemporary with that 
of a pdet who has been so long enrolled among the classics 
of his country. It may also be mentioned, that Goldsmith, 
whose envy is well known, bore involuntary testimony to the 
merit of these lines, by exhibiting no sentiment but mor- 
tification on hearing them read with i^plause in s XK>ndon 

" Ot the pieces comgpsed since the first publication of Mrs. 
Botbauld's " Poems" (which form the larger part of the 
present collection) ; the two longest, " The Epis^e to Mr. 
Wilherforce," and " Eighteen Hundred and Eleven," have 
already appeared in separate pamphlets ; and the first of 
them is added to the last edition of the Poems : several o! 
the smaller ones have also been inserted in periodical works. 
Corrected copies of most of those now printed for the first 
time were found among her papers, evidently prepared for 
insertion in the enlarged volume which she long meditated, 
but never completed. 

" The poems have been disposed, with some unimportant 
exceptions, in chronological order, as nearly as it could be 
ascertained. When the productions of a writer extend over 
so long a period as nearly sixty years, they become in some 
. measure the record of an age, — a document for the historian 
of literature and opinions ; and they ought to be arranged 
with some view to this secondary object, by which their in- 
terest is enhanced. It is also agreeable to trace the author's 
progress from youth to age, by changes of style, or the suc- 
cession of diSerent trains of thought. In the writings of 
Mrs. Barbauld, however, the character of the s^le varies 
httle from the beginning to the end. It is nowhere to he 
found in an unformed state; for so relentlessly did she de- 
^roy all her juvenile essays, that the editor is not aware of 
the existence of a single piece which can be ascertained to 
have been composed before the age of twenty : the printed 



ones are all, it is believed, of a considerably later date. Her 
earliest pieces too, as well as her more recent ones, exhibit in- 
their imagery and allusions the fruits of extensive and varied 
reading. In youth, the power of her imagination was counter- 
balanced by the activity of her intellect, which exercised itself 
in rapid but not unprofitable excursions over almost every 
field of knowledge. In age, when this activity abated, ima- 
gination appeared to exert over her an undiminished sway. 

" The quality which principally distinguishes the later pro- 
ductions of her muse is pathos. In some tempers sensibility 
appears an instinct, while in others it is the gradual result of 
principle and reHectJon, of the events and the experience of 
life. It was certainly so in that of Mrs. Barbauld. Her 
" Epistle to Dr. Enfield," on his revisiting Warrington in 
1789, is the first of her poems which indicates deep feeling ; 
and this was dictated by the tender recollections of departed 
youth, and the memory of an honoured parent, the first near 
connexion from whom she had been parted bydeath. Her other 
pathetic pieces, the " Lines on the Death of Mrs. Martineau," 
the " Dirge," the " Thought on Death," the " Lines on 
the Illness of the late King," those ** On the Death of the 
Princess Charlotte," " The Octogenary Reflections," and a 
few others, may easily be traced either to particular afflictive 
incidents of her life, or to reflections naturally arising under 
the influence of declining years and domestic solitude. By 
die reader of taste and sentiment these will not be esteemed 
the least interesting portion of the collection. 

"JThe second volume of the present work contains a selection 
from the private correspondence of Mrs. Barbauld, her entire 
share of the miscellaneous pieces in prose written by herself 
and her brother conjomtly, her three pamphlets, and several 
occasional pieces, — some of them now first given to the 
world, others reprinted from periodical works where they 
appeared anonymously. 

*' It is e<]ually true of the style of Mrs. Barbauld in prose 

as in verse,-tbat it was never produced to the public till it had 

reached its perfect stature: the early volume of "ItUscella- 

E 2 



neons Pieces," cont«ned specimens in various kinds vhiclr 
she tierer saipassed. In the all^ory of the " Hill of ScieDce" 
^e tried her streDfrth with Addison, and sustained no defeat. 
The " Essay on Romances" is a professed imitation of the 
Style of Dr. Johnson ; and it was allowed by that celebrated 
rfaetc^Ician himself, to be the best that was ever attempted ; 
because it reflected the colour of bb thoughts, no less than 
the tuni of his expressions. Here it appears as a foil to the 
* easy and inimitable graces' of her own natural manner. 
Of the ** Essay ag^nst Inconsistency in our Expectations," 
the editor feels it superfluous to speak ; it has long been ac- 
knowledged to stand at the head of its class. 

" Of a different character are her '* Thoughts on the De- 
voti(%al Taste, on Sects and on Establishments." This piece 
betrays, it .must be confessed, that propensity to tread on dan- 
gerous ground which sometimes appears ui instinct of genius. 
It recommends a spirit of devotion which yet she is obliged 
to allow to be in some measure incompatible with an enlight- 
ened and .philosophical theology. That part, however, which 
delineates the characteristics of sects and of establishments, 
and balances their respective advantages and inconveniences^ 
evinces great acuteness and a rare impardality ,* and the whole 
must be admired as eloquence, if it cannot be altogether 
acquiesced in as reason. 

*' Amongst her later pieces, two which first appeared in the 
Monthly Magazine, the " Essay on Education," and that " On 
Prejudice," which may be regarded as in some measure a 
sequel to it, — have justly earned for her not merely applause, 
but gratitude. The first served to calm the apprehensions of 
many an anxious parent, — who bad risen from the examin- 
ation of the numerous conflicting systems of education then 
&shionaUe, alarmed rather than edified, — by pointing out, 
that the success^ the great and familiar process of fitting a 
human creature tp bear well his part in life, depended not for 
its success on elaborate schemes of artificial management, 
such as few have leisure to attend to or power to execute; 
but^. most of all, on circumstaiices which no parent can con- 


uas. BABIAULD. £9 

troul ; and next, on examples such as discreet tmd virtuoas 
parents in any situation of life are enabled to give, and give 
indeed unconsciously. The second essay encourages the 
parent to use without scruple the power of ioBuencing the 
opinions of his child which God and nature have put into his 
hands, and not to believe, on the word of certain specutatistsi 
that it is either necessary or desirable to abstain from imbuing 
his offspring with what he conceives to be important and 
salutary truths, from the dread of instilling prejudices and 
crippling the efforts of his in&nt reason. In these excellent 
productions we are uncertain which most to admire, the 
spacious and discriminating intellect, the practical good sense 
and acute observation of life, which suggest the remarks, or 
the spirited and expressive style which rouses attention* 
strikes the imagination, and carries them with conviction to 
the heart. 

"It appears from a letter -of Mrs. Barbauld's, that she 
early read with great delight, though in an English triuislar* 
tion, the Dialogues of Lucian. Perhaps we may remotely 
trace to the impression thus produced, the origin of her witty 
and ingenious " Dialogue between Madame Cosmogunia and 
a Philosophical Inquirer of the Eighteenth Century," as well 
as of her " Dialogue in the Shades." The allegorical or enig-> 
matical style, however, in which the first of these pieces is 
composed, seemed peculiarly adapted to her genius ; and the 
skill and elegance with which she composed in this difBcult 
manner is further attested by her " Letter of John Bull," by 
the " Four Sisters," (published in " Evenings at Home,") by 
many entertaining riddles, a few of which are now included 
among her poems, and by several little fancy pieces scattered 
among her familiar letters. Even her conversation was oflen 
enlivened with these graceful sports of wit and imagination. 

" Of the three pamphlets now republished among her 

prose works, the editor has only to observe, that though 

composed on particular occasions, these pieces were not 

formed to pass away with those occasions : tltey treat of sub< 

E 3 



jects permtmently interesting to the champion of reli^oas 
liberty, to the conscientious patriot, and to the Christian 
worshipper, — wad they so treat of them, that while English 
eloquence is made a study, while English Uterature is not 
forgotten, their praise shall Uve, their memory shall flourish. 

" It only remains to speak of her familiar letters. These 
were certainly never intended by herself to meet the publiceye. 
She kept no copies of them ; end it is solely by the indulgence of 
her correspondents or their representatives, — an indulgence 
for which she here desires to offer her grateful acknowledge- 
ments, — that the editor has been enabled to give them to the 
world. She flatters herself that their publication will not be 
considered as a trespass either against the living or the dead : 
some of them, particularly a considerable proportion of those 
addressed to Dr. Aikin, seemed to claim insertion as biogra- 
phical records; and those written during her residence in 
France, in the ye&rs 1785 and J 786, appeared no less curious 
and valuable at the present day for the matter they contain, 
than entertaining and agreeable from the vivacity with which 
they are written. But it was impossible not to be influenced 
also by the desire of thus communicating to those admirers 
of Mrs. Barbauld's genius who did not enjoy the advantage 
of her personal acquaintance, a just idea of the pointed and 
elegant remark, the sportive and lambent wit, the affectionate 
spirit of sympathy, and the courteous expression of esteem 
and benevolence, which united to form at once the graces of 
her epistolary style and the inexpressible charm of her con- 

" Mrs. Barbauld composed at different periods a consider- 
able number of miscellaneous pieces for the instruction and 
amusement of young persons, especially females, which will 
appear in a separate form about the close of the present 



To ^e fiyregomg interestiog Memoir we are destroos of 
«ddiug a specimen of Mrs. Barbaiild's powers of thinking, and 
style of composition ; and for that purpose we select ber littl* 
essaj " On Inconsistency in our Expectations ;" which con- 
tfuns as much sound philosc^hy, forcibly and elegandy ex- 
pressed, es perbt^ was erer comprehended widiic so limited 

*' Against Inconsistent/ in our Expectations. 

" ' What is more reasonable, than that they who take pains ifo* 
any thing, should get most in that particular for which they take 
pains? They have taken pains for power, you for right pfincii^eat 
they for riches, you for a proper use of the appearances of things! 
see whether they have the advantage of you in that for which yoii 
have taken pains, and which they neglect: if they are in power, 
and you not, why will not you speak the truth to younelf, that 
ybudonothingfor the sake ofpOwer, but that diey do every thing? 
Noj but since I take care to have right principles, it is more rea- 
sonable thu I diould have power. Yes, in respect to what you take 
care about, your principles. But give up to others the things iih 
which they have taken more care than you. Else it is just aaif,. 
because you have right principles, you should think it $t that, 
when you shoot an arrow, you should hit the mark better than an^ 
archer, or that you should forge better than a smith.* 

Carter's Bpittetut. 

" As most of the unhap^iness in the world anses rather ironk> 
diReppointed desires, than from positive evil, it is of AiOr 
utmost consequence to attain just notions of the laws and, 
order of the universe^ that we may net vex ourselves witbt 
fruidess wishes, or give way to groundless and unreasonable, 
discontent. The laws of natural philosophy, indeed, are. 
tolerably understood and attended' to ; and though we may 
suffer inconveniences, we are seldom disappointed in con-, 
sequence of them. No man expeets. to preserve orange-trees; 
in the open air through an Englbh winter ; or when he haa 
planted an acorn, to see it become a large oak in a few 
months. The mind of man naturally yields to necessity ; and 
our wishes soon subside when we see the impossibility of ibe'ia 
bring gratified. Now,, opon an accurate inspection^ we sbalf 
E 4 



find, in the moral government of the work), and the order' of 
the inteUectual system, laws as determuiafe, fixed, and invari- 
able as any In Newton's Principia. The progress of vegetation 
16 not more certain than the growth of habit ; not is the power 
flf attraction more clearly proved than the force of aifection or 
the influ^ice of example. The man, therefore, who has well 
studied tiie operations of nature in mind as well as matter, 
will acquire a certain moderation and equity in his claims 
upon Providence. He never will be disappointed either in 
himself or others. He will act with precision ; and expect 
that effect, and that alone, from his efforts, which they are 
naturally adapted to produce. For want of this, men erf 
merit and integrity often censure the dispositions of Provi- 
dence for suffering characters they despise to run awny with 
Advantages which, they yet know, are purchased by such 
means as a high and noble spirit could never submit to. If 
you refuse to pay the price, why expect the purchase ? We 
should consider this world as a great mart of commerce, 
where fintune exposes to our view various commodities, 
riches, ease, tranquillity, fame, integrity, knowledge. Every 
thing is marked at a eettled price. Our time, our labour, our 
ingenuity, is so much ready money which we are to lay out 
to the best advantage. Examine, compare, choose, reject; 
but stand to your own judgment ; and do not, like children, 
when you have purchased one thing, repine that you do not 
possess another which you did not purchase. Such is tlie 
force of weU-reguIated industry, that a steady and vigorous 
exertion of our faculties, directed to one end, will generally 
insure success. Would you, for instance, be rich ? Do you 
think Uiat single point worth the sacrificing every thing else 
to? You may then be rich. Thousands have become so from 
the lowest beginnings by toil, and patient diUgence, and at- 
tention to the minutest articles of expense and profit. But 
yoa must give up the pleasures of leisure, of a vacant mind, 
of a free unsuspicious temper. If you preserve your inte- 
grity, it must be a coarse-spun and vulgar honesty. Those 
high and lofiy notions of morals which you brought with you 
from the schools, must be considerably lowered, and mixed 


iritJi the baser alloy of a jealous and worldly-minded prudence. 
You must leam to do hard, if not unjust things ; and for the 
nice embarrassments of a delicate and iagenuous spirit, it is 
necessary for you to get rid of them as fast as possible. You 
must shut your heart against the muses, and be content to 
feed your understanding with plain, household truths. In 
short, you must not attempt to enlarge your ideas, or polish 
your taste, or refine your sentiments ; but must keep on in 
one beaten track, without turning aside either to the right 
hand or to the left. " But I cannot submit to drudgeiy like 
this ■ — I feel a spirit above it." 'Tis well : be above it then j 
(Mily do not repine that you are not ricli. 

" Is knowledge the pearl of price ? That too may be pur- 
chased — by steady application, and long solitary hours of 
TstHdy and reflection. Bestow these, and you shall be wise. 
' Biit, (says the man of letters) what a hardship is it that 
many an illiterate fellow who cannot construe the motto of the 
itrms on his coach, shall raise a fortune and make a figure, 
while I have bttle more than the common conveniences of 
life.' Et tibi magna satis ! — Was it in order to raise a fortune 
that you consumed tiie sprightly hours of youth in study and 
retirement? Was it to be rich thafyou grew pale over the 
midnight lamp, and distilled the sweetness from the Greek 
and Roman spring? You have then mistaken your pnlh, and 
ill employed your industry. ' What reward have I then fo^ 
all my labours ?" AVhat reward ! A large, comprehensive soul, 
well purged from vulgar fears, and perturbations, and preju- 
dices; able to comprehend and interpret the works of man — 
of God. A rid), flourishing, cultivated mind, pregnant vnih 
inexhaustible stores of entertainment and reflection, A per- 
petual spring of fresh Ideas ; and tlie conscious dignity of 
superior intelligence. Good heaven 1 and what reward can 
you ask besides ? 

" ' But is it not some reproach upon the economy of Provjj 
dence that such a one, who is a mean dirty fellow, should 
have amassed wealth enough to buy half a nation ? Not in 
the least He made hims^f a mean dirty fellow for that very 

V Dcizscii/Googic 


end. He has paid his health, his conscience^ his libei^ for 
it; and will you envy him his hargaia? Will you hang yoirf 
head and blush in his presence because he outshines you in 
equipage and show? Lift up your brow with a noUe confi- 
dence, and say to yourself, I have not these things, it is true; 
but it is because I have not sought, because I have not dc 
sired them ; it is because I possess somethii^ better. I have 
chosen my lot, I am content and satisfied. 

" You are a modest man — You love quiet and independ- 
ence, and have a delicacy and reserve in your temper which 
renders it impossible for you to elbow your way in the world, 
end be the herald of your own merits. Be content then with a 
modest retirement, with the esteem of your intimate friends, 
with the praises of a blamdess heart, and a delicate ingenuous 
spirit; but resign the splendid distinctions of the world to 
those who can better scramble for them. 

" The man whose tender sensibility of conscience and strict 
regard to the rules of morality makes him scrupulous and 
fearful of offending, is often heard to complain of the dis- 
advantages he lies under in every path of honour and profit. 
* Could I but get over some nice points, and conform to the 
practice and opinion of those about me, I might stand as litir 
a chance as others for dignities and preferment/ And why 
can you not ? What hinders you from discarding this trouble- 
some scrupulosity of yours which stands so grievously in your 
. way? If it be a small thing to enjoy a healthful mind, sound 
at the very core, that does uot shrink irom the keenest in- 
spection; inward freedom from remorse and perturbation; 
unsullied whiteness and simplicity of manners; a genuine in- 
tegrity, > 

' Pure in the last recesses of the mind;' 

if you think these advantages an inadequate recompeflCe for 
what you resign, dismiss your scruples this instant, and be a 
slave-merchant, a parasite, or — what you please. 

' If these be motivea weak, break off betimes ;* 



and as you have not spirit to assert the dignity of virtue bo 
wise enough not to forgo the emoluments of vice. 

*' I much admire the spirit of the ancient philosophers, in 
that they never attempted, as our moralists ofien do, to lower 
the tone of philosophy, and make it consistent with all the 
indulgences of indolence and sensuality. They never thought 
of having the bulk of mankind for llieir disciples; but kept 
themselves as distinct as possible from a worldly life. They 
plainly told men what sacrifices were required, and what ad^ 
vantages they were which might be expected. 

< Si virtus hoc una potest dare, fortis omisiis 
Hoc age deliciis ' 

If you would be a philosopher these are the terms. ¥00 
must do thus and thus : there is no other way. If not, go 
and be one of the vulgar. 

" There is no one quality gives so much dignity to a cha-^ 
racter as consistency of conduct. Even if a man's pursuits 
he wrong and unjustifiable, yet if they are prosecuted witlr 
steadiness and vigour, we cannot withhold our admiration.' 
The most characterisdc mark of a great mind is to choose 
some one important object, and pursue it through life. It was 
this made Ceesar a great man. His object was ambition ; he 
pursued it steadily, and was always ready to sacrifice to it 
every interfering passion or inclination. 

" Tliere is a pretty passage in one of Lucian's dialogues^ 
where Jupiter complains to Cupid that though he has had so 
many intrigues, he was never sinCei-ely beloved. In order to 
be loved, says Cupid, you must lay aside your segis and your 
thunder-bolts, and you must curl and perfume your hair, and 
place a garland on your head, and walk with a soft step, 
and assume a winning, obsequious deportment.. But, replied 
Jupiter, I am not willing to resign so much of my dignity. 
Then, returns Cupid, leave off" desiring to be loved: — He 
wanted to be Jupiter and Adonis at the same ^me. 

*< It must be confessed, that men of genius are of all others 
most inclined to make these unreasonable claims. As their 



relti^ for enjoyment is strong, their views large and compre- 
hensive, and they feel themselves lif^ above the common 
bulk of mankind, they are apt to slight that natural reward 
of praise and admiration which is ever largely paid to dis* 
tinguished abilities ; and to expect to be called forth to public 
notice and fiivour : without considering that their talents are 
commonly very unfit for active lifoj that their eccentricity 
and tiirn for speculation disqualifies them for the business of 
the world, which is best carried on by men of moderaK 
genius; and that society is not obliged to reward anyone 
who is not useful to it. .The poets have been a very unrea- 
sonable race, and have ollen complained loudly of the neglect 
of genius and the ingratitude of the nge. The tender and 
pensive Cowley, and the elegant Shenstone, had their minds 
tinctured by this discontent; and even the sublime melan- 
choly of Young was too much owing to tlie stings of dist^ 
pointed ambition. 

" Tlie moderation we have been endeavouring to inculcate 
will likewise prevent much mortification and disgust in our 
commerce with mankind. As we ought not to wish in our- 
selves, so neither should we expect in our fiiends contrary 
qualifications. Young and sanguine when we enter the 
world, and feel our affections drawn forth by any particular 
excellence in a character, we immediately give it credit for 
all others ; and are beyond measure disgusted when we come 
to discover, as we soon must discover, the defects in the 
other side of the balance. But nature is much more firugal 
than to heap together all manner of shining qualities in one 
glaring mass. Like a jtidicious painter she endeavours to 
preserve a certain unity of style and colouring in her pieces. 
Models of absolute perfection are only to be met With in 
romance; where exquisite beauty, and brilliant wit, and pro- 
found j udgment, and immaculate virtue are aU blended t<^ether 
to adorn some &vourite character. As an analomist knows 
that the racer cannot have the strength and muscles of the 
draught-horse; and that winged men, gi'iffins, and mer' 
maids must be mere creatures of the imaginatioR ; so the 



philosopher is sensible that there are combinatioDS of moral 
qu^ttes which never can take place but in idea. There is s 
diflerent air and complexion in characters as well as in faces, 
though perhaps each equally beautiful { and the excelloicies 
of one cannot be transferred to the other. Thus if one man 
possesses a stoical apathy of soul, acts independent of the 
opinion of the world, and fulfils every duty with mathemati- 
cal exactness, you must not expect that man to be greatly 
influenced by the weakness of pity, or the partialities of 
friendship : you must not be offended that he does not fly to 
meet you ailer a short absence; or require from him the 
convivial spirit and honest effusions of a warm, open, sus- 
ceptible heart. If another is remarkable for a lively active 
zeal, inflexible inte^ity, a strong indignation against vice, 
and freedom in reproving it, he will probably have some Utile 
bluDtness in his address not altc^ther suitable to polished 
life ; he will want the winning arts of conversation ; he will 
disgust by a kind of haughtiness and negligence in his man- 
ner, and often hurt the delicacy of his acquaintance with 
harsh and disagreeable truths. 

" We usually say — that man is a genius, but he has 
some whims and oddities ,' — such a one has a very general 
knowledge, but he is superficial ; &c. Now, in all such cases, 
we should speak more rationally did we substitute t/iere/bre 
for but. He is a genius, therefore he is whimsical ; and the 

" It is the fault of the present age, owing to the freer com- 
merce that difierent ranks and profession now enjoy with 
each other, that characters are not marked with sufhctent 
strength : the several classes run too much into one another. 
We have fewer pedants, it is true, but we have fewer strik- 
ing originals. Every one is expected to have such a tincture 
of general knowledge as is incompatible with going deep into 
any science ; and such a conformity to fashionable manners 
as checks the free workings of the ruling passion, and gives 
an insipid sameness to the fece of society, under the idea of 
polish and regularity. 



" There is a cast of manners peculiar and becoming to each 
age, sex, and profession; one, therefore, should not throw 
out illiberal and common-place censures agamst another. 
Each is perfect in its kind. A woman as a woman : a trades- 
man as a tradesman. We are often hurt by the brutality 
and sluggish conceptions of the vulgar ; not considering that 
some there must be to be hewers- of wood and drawers of 
water, and thaf cultivated genius, or even any great refine- 
ment and delicacy in their moral feelings, would be a real 
misfortune to them. 

*' Let us then study the philosophy of the human mind. 
The man who is master of this science, will know what to 
expect from every one. From this man, wise advice ; from 
that, cordial sympathy; from another, casual entertainment. 
The passions and inclinations of others are his tools, which 
he can use with as much precision as he would the mechani- 
cal powers ; and he can as readily make allowance for the 
workings of vanity, or the bias of self-interest in his fHends, 
as for the power of friction, or the irregularities of the 




Although the period of Mr. Wolfe's cleatli places him rather 
beyond the usual limits of our work, yet we prefer the slight 
relaxation of a general rule, to the omission, in the " Annual 
Biography," of all notice of an individual who was esteemed 
and beloved by every person to whom be was known; and 
who has left behind him more than one production of his 
genius, " which the world will not willingly let die." To an 
interesting publication, in two volumes, by the Rev. John 
A.Russell, M.A., chaplain to his excellency the lord-lieutenant 
of Ireland, and curate of St. Werburgh's, Dublin, entitled 
" Remains of the late Rev. Charles Wolfe," we are indebted 
for the greater part of the materials of which the following 
memoir is composed. Another little work, called " College 
Recollections," in which the friends of the author are design- 
ated under various fictitious names, and, among the res^ 
Wolfe, under that of " Waller," has also afforded us much aid. 
We have still further to express our acknowledgments to one 
of Mr. Wolfe's most intimate college friends; by whom we 
have been kindly favoured with some very valuable commu- 

The Wolfes came originally from Oughtarard, in the 
county of Kildare, The military achievements of the illustri- 
ous hero of Quebec, render the name conspicuous In the 
annals of British renown ; but we do not believe that General 
Wolfe was related to the subject of this memoir, whose tamily, 
however, has cert^nly to boast of the late eminent and much- 
lamented judge, Lord Kilwarden. 



Charles Wolfe was tlie youngest son of Tlieobald Wolfe, 
Esq., of Blackball, in the county of Kildare. His mother 
was the daughter of the Rev. Peter Lombard. He was born . 
in Dublin, on the 14th December 1791. At an early age he 
lost his father, not long after whose death the family removed 
to England, where they resided for some years. In the year 
1801, Charles was sent to a school at Bath, from which, in a 
few months, he was obliged to return home in consequence of 
the delicacy of his health, which interrupted his education for 
twelve months. Upon his recovery, he was placed under the 
tuition of Dr. Evans, in Salisbury ; but was removed in the 
year 1805, and soon after was sent as a boarder to Hyde 
Abbey School, Winchester, of which Mr. Richards, senior, 
was then the able master. " There," observes Mr. Russell, 
" he soon distinguished himself by his great proficiency in 
classical knowledge, and by his early powers of Latin and 
Greek versification, and displayed the dawnings of a genius 
which promised to set him amidst that bright constellation of 
British poets which adorns the literature of the present age. 
The many high testimonies to his amiable disposition and 
superior talents, which are supplied by the afifectionate letters 
of his schoolmastei's, show that he was not overvalued by his 
own family, with every member of which he seems to have 
been the special fiivourite. I cannot better describe the manner 
in which his character as a boy was appreciated at school and 
at home, and bow deservedly it was so prized, than in the 
following simple language of a very near relative, to whom I 
am indebted for some of the particulars of his life already 
mentioned : — ' The letters I enclose you bear testimony to 
the amiable character of my dear, dear Charies, such as I ever 
remember it. Those from Mr. Richards I can better estimate 
than any one else, from knowing that he was not easily 
pleased in a pupil, or apt to flatter. He was greatly attracted 
by superior talents ; but you will see, that he speaks of qua- 
lities of more value. He never received even a slight punish- 
ment or r^rimand at any school to which he ever went j and 
in nearly twelve years that he was under my mother's car^ I 



cannot recollect that he ever acted contrary to her wishes, or 
caused her a moment's pain, except parting with her when he 
went to school, I do not know whether he ever told you that 
he had, when a boy, a wish to enter the army, which was 
acquired by being in the way of military scenes ; but, when 
he found it would give his mother pain, he totally gave up 
the idea, which I am sure, all his liie he thanked God that he 
had done. In 1808, he left Winchester (where he had been 
three years), owing to our coming to Ireknd, as my mother 
could not think of leaving him behind. His company was her 
first earthly comfort, and she could not relinquish it ; indeed 
we used to count tlie hours when the time drew near that he 
was expected. We were often told that we would spoil liim, 
butj/OM know whether it was so. When we arrived in Ireland, 
it was intended that he should go to some other school, but 
he did not go to any, nor had he any one to read with him, 
so that he entered college with much less previous instruction 
than most others. I believe you knew him soon after; and I 
need not tell t/ou of him since, or what he has been, even if I 
could. I have never heard of a school-fellow or a college 
acquaintance who did not respect or love him, but I will not 
say more to you' The pleasing testimony to his character 
and abilities contained in this extract, is indeed fully borne 
out by the accounts which some of his school-fellows have 
given of him to the writer. They spoke of him with the 
strongest affection, and represented him as the pride of Win- 
chester school." 

This ^description of his early proficiency is corroborated 
by other testimony, " His classical attainments," observes 
one of his most intimate friends', " distinguished him when 
very young. Tlie facility and elegance with which he wrote 
X^tin verse excited admiration. With most boys it is a 
mechanical^ labour, and it is indeed absurd to make it a 
general practice at our schools. But the mind of Wolfe was 
keenly sensitive of the charms of the Augustan age of com- 

• John Sjdaej Taylor, Esq. in a JeUw in the Monung Cbronlcle which wUl 
prescDtl; be adverted to. 



position. He was such a master of Z^atih expression, and 
had so much of the spirit of the bard in him, that his thoughts- 
shaped themselves with a grace and vigour like those of his 
native tongue, into the language of the Roman Muse." 

In the year 1809 he entered the University of Dublin, and 
became the pupil of the late Rev. Dr. Davenporti the Pro- 
fessor of Natural Philosophy, who immediately conceived 
the highest esteem for him, and did every thing in his power 
to cultivate his talents. Of this gentleman, and of his kind- 
ness, Mr. Wolfe ever spbke in terms of the most grateful 

TTius assisted and encouraged, Mr. Wolfe soon distin- 
guished himself, and was rewarded by various academical 
honours. In the very first year of his college course he 
wrote upon " The Prison-scene of Jugurtha," (a subject 
proposed by the head of the University,) an English poem, 
which, if not equal to some of his subsequent productions, 
certainly " evinces," to use Mr. Russell's Words, " boldness 
of thought, vigour of expression, and somewhat of a dramatic 

" Towards the close of the same year," says Mr. Russell, 
" he had to sustain a severe domestic affliction, in the death of 
his mother — an event which wrought upon his affectionate 
heart an impression of the deepest regret. As soon as he was 
enabled to resume his studies, he enter^ upon them with 

This period of Mr, Wolfe's life is thus interestingly de- 
scribed by the author of " College Recollections." It has 
already been mentlonedi that Mr. Wolfe is designated in 
that work by the name of " Waller." The name of " Cramp- 
ton " is equally fictitious. Tlie circumstances which are de- 
tailed are hpwever, we understand, strictly true. 

'* He had early acquired a very high reputation : for the 
first two years of his residence in college, he had devoted 
himself to classical studies, which seemed more congenial to 
his fine taste and sparkling fancy ; and during this time he 
had carried off all the prizes, and was admitted to be, by emi- 
nence, the m(»t distinguished man of his day. In the third 


year, when Ui^&ges are no longer objects of exclusive inte- 
rest, he found that his inferiority in the sciences precluded 
bim from his accustomed distinction. As usual, his friends 
used to rush eagerly up to the hall when the bell announced 
that the examination had ended, and the multitudes issued 
forth at the opened doors ; but not as usual did Waller receive 
their congratulations, and he had, examination after examin- 
ation, to read in the countenances around him an expression 
of disappointment. This was not to be endured. However 
distasteful to him the sciences were, it was more disagreeable 
to be defeated and to see his friends mortified. The division 
in which he happened to be was that in which the best 
science scholar in the undergraduate course had, for nearly 
three years, maintained an undisputed ascendancy. Waller 
might, if he pleased, have had himself transferred into a divi- 
sion where he would have had a fairer prospect of success < 
but this would not satisfy his ambition. It demanded a more 
D<^e triumph. PJe accordingly held his place in his class, 
and devoted himself only the more earnestly to what might 
almost be termed a new study. During the entire interval 
between the examinations he kept his noble faculties concen- 
trated, and in intense action, upon what had been a most dis- 
tasteful pursuit, and felt himself, when the time of trial drew 
near, possessed of knowledge and power which he had, in the 
beginning, but faint hopes of attaining. 

" During the examination, (which is continued at intervals 
for two days,) the interest and speculation respecting the result 
it b almost impossible to describe. At these trials of acade- 
mic proficiency, no persons are permitted to be present except 
the examined and their examiners. After the first morning, 
it was noised abroad that Waller had answered with great 
ability, and had solved some difficult problems ; and it was 
observed, that Crampton, his great adversary, did not pass 
across the courts to his room with his accustomed supercilious 
composure : the report at the close of the day was, that 
Waller had maintained, and, indeed, increased the character 
he had made in the morning ; and some said, that he had 

F S 



gained a decided advantage over Crampton. The next day 
passed in the same manner, the interest becoming more gene- 
ral through the college; and if a stranger, during the last 
hours of the examination, were to pass through the courts, he 
would have had his attention strongly arrested by the faces of 
the difFerentgroups scattered in various directions about,andby 
the restlessness with which single stragglers were in motion ; 
now at the closed door of the hall, now looking up to the col- 
lege clock, and seeing that there were five still minutes to pass; 
and he would have felt certain, that something of much more 
than ordinary interest was in agitation. At last the small bell 
Ungled, and the doors were thrown open. It is Httle to say, 
that the wave from within was met by a more precipitous rush 
from all the parts of the court without, to know the result; 
and although there were, perhaps, thirty premiums adjudged, 
yet the whole interest of the enquiries seem to be centered in 
the fate of one ; and, for a moment, the faces of friends and 
brothers were unnotice<l, in the eagerness to explore, amidst 
the moving mass, the face of Crampton and his opponent 
Waller. The first who came out was Crampton. His 
features seemed sunk and pale, and there was a bewildered 
air ov^r his countenance, as if be was incapable of compre- 
hending whether all' around him was real. This was soon 
understood, when Waller was distinguished, with a suppressed 
enthusiasm breaking out in every feature and every expression 
of his countenance, and his friends now needed not to be 
told, that he had been successful ; and yet, amidst all their 
joy and exultation, the appearance of Crampton crossing the 
courts with a hurried and disordered air, and without taking 
notice of the few friends who accompanied him, Iiad the 
power effectually to check any disposition which they might . 
have felt of making a public demonstration of their triumph. 

" It was on the evening of this day that I met him for the 
first time ; I cannot but call it a proud evening for him. 
Every person in company, except myself, was a tried and 
loved friend, and he knew how truly I esteemed lils character i 
there was not, therefore, an Individual present, whom he did 
jiot know to rejoice in his triumph : and I cannot conceive 


what can be called a proud moment, if that be not one, in 
which a man feels himself surrounded by a group, in whose 
countenances he can trace a sympathy with his own rejoicing; 
and where he knows, that, in every heart, however elevated, 
and however full of frolic and glee, there is, under ail its va- 
ried emotions, a feeling of delight at his triumph, which ardent 
and exhilarated spirits cannot and will not chase away. 

" As the night advanced, and as various guests one by one 
passed awny, the conversation began to grow more Eerious 
and more interesting. Every one knows how much more full 
and unrestrained the communion of hearts becomes, according 
as the social circle narrows. We spoke now no longer on general 
topics; I sayifi?, because, with thewarmthofourage, and under 
the enthusiasm of such a timei our friendship had cemented. 
We spoke of the day's triumph ; we made Waller recount the 
various emotions and alarms which he had experienced ; we 
heard of questions such as struck him for the moment with dis- 
may, and of the animation with which his whole faculties liad 
concentrated themselves, as if into one powerful impulse, and 
borne liun through the difficulty suddenly. TTiese would be 
details in which the unconcerned reader could feel no interest, 
so I shall not give them. From speaking of the event of the 
day, we were drawn on to speak of the future; and it became 
a general wish, that he would devote himself to the study in , 
which he had made so happy a commencement, and give 
himself up to the labour of fellowship reading. There were 
many reasons why his friends urged tliis upon liim. He was 
of a very religious character, and would be an ornament to 
the clerical professicm: and then, for other professions he 
seemed little qualified, from his uncommon simplicity of mind 
and ignorance of the world. He was certainly very agreeable 
in manner, and possessed of a very high intellect ; but he 
never employedhis mental powers in judging of men : and, , 
although he could analyze with equal beauty and precision the 
characters which history set l>efore him, yet he seemed to lay 
all this power of judging aside when it was to be employed in 
ihe affiiirs of daily life, and was always likely, from his caa- 

' F 3 



doar and his unsuspecting temper, to be deceir^ by the least 
artful imposture. A fellowship, therefore, it was decided^ 
was the object towards which Waller should look, and a fel- 
lowship, in the yielding kindness of his heart, through com- 
pliance with his friends' entreaties, he determined to seek. 

"Many a female voice was raised against this decision 
when it was communicated to his friends in town, for Waller 
was a very general favourite in female circles. Though his 
person was rather awkward and heavily formed, yet there 
was something in tils look and air, which said he was a 
gentleman ; and in his countenance there was such an ex- 
pression of purity, and intelligence, and endiusiasm, that 
you never took into account against him the smalbiess of his 
eyes, and that the shape of his face was heavy. It was the 
triumph of mind over matter, and his constant cheerfulness 
of temper, and easily excitable spirits, did for his features, 
what they did for every subject he spoke upon, — diffitsing 
their own character and their own light over what might 
otherwise remain unnoticed or uninteresting. ' Is it true,' 
said a very pretty girl, ' that Mr. Waller has decided on 
reading for a Fellowship ? Mamma smd last night that he bad, 
and that he told her so. — I am sure there are men enough 
to be fellows, and now I suppose be will never come out to 
a party any more ; and if ever we see him, he will be so 
solemn and so dull, that it would be better to be one of his 
books than his partner.* .However, Waller did not in the 
least alter his manner or disposition. During the day he 
was faithfully employed in his arduous labours; but the 
moment night came on, his happy Spirits rallied about him, 
and he was to be seen the most joyous and enlivening mem- 
ber of eveiy circle which was happy enough to have a claim 
upon him." 

Mr. Wolfe was at this period of his life far from being in 
affluent drcumstances. An intimate friend and fellow stu- 
dent of his, who, on coming of age, had acquired possession 
of a little property of four or five hundred pounds in valoe, 
warmly and anxiously pressed him to accept a moiety of it 



for the purpose of facilitating his progress in life; but this 
generous offer Wolfe gratefully but steadily declined, ^yith 
a chivalry of feeling which always distinguished him; he 
determiued to endeavour to win his way by the exertion of 
bis owD talents. With this view he undertook the duties of 
a c^Iege tutor, and, as Mr. Russell observes, " discharged 
the task with such singular devotedness, and disinterested 
anxiety, as materially to entrench upon his own particular 
studies. He was, indeed, so prodigal of his labour and of his 
lime to each pupil, that he reserved little leisure for his own 
pursuits or relaxations. At the usual period, he obtained a 
scholarship, wUh the highest honour, upon which he imme- 
diately became, a resident in college. A new theatre of 
literary honour was opened to him, at the commencement of 
the same year, where his genius for composition in prose and 
T-erse, and his natural powers of oratorical excellence, had 
more ample sphere for exercise and cultivation. In the 
Historical Society, of which he was now admitted a member, 
they were encouraged and expanded by the stimulus of 
generous competition, and by constant mental collision witli 
the most accon^plished and enlightened of his fellow-students. 
He soon obtained medals for oratory, and for composi- 
tions in prose and verse ; and was early appointed to the 
honorable office of opening the sessions, after the summer 
recess, by a speech from the chair; the grand post of dis- 
tinction to which the most successful speakers in the society 
continually aspired." 

On this occasion, however, the indolence and procrastina" 
tion which at times accompany and impede great talents, 
prevented Mr. Wolfe from achieving all that he might 
otherwise have accomplished. Although he had three months 
in which to collect and arrange his materials, he deferred 
doing so until the very last moment Passages of his speech, 
indeed, he composed, and committed to memory; intending 
to fill up the chasms before the time when he would be 
' called upon to make the expected display ; but that time 



arrived, and found him still imperfectly prepared. His in- 
timate associates, who were aware of his neglect, trembled 
for him. He himself, when he took the chair, was evidently 
in a state of great trepidation. Excited, however, by the 
stimulus of liaving to address so numerous and intellectual 
an assembly, he soon convinced his weU-wisbers that their 
apprehensions were in a great measure groundless. Al- 
though his speech was necessarily somewhat deficient in 
unity and connexion, parts of it were exceedingly eloquent ; 
and it was received with the highest applause, and obtained 
the gold medal. A gentleman who was present obsei^-ed, 
that it reminded him of those fine fragments of Phidias or 
Praxiteles, the b^uty of which made the spectator lament 
the loss of the entire statue. 

It was about this period, also, that among other poems of 
considerable beauty, Mr. Wolfe wrote his " Ode on the Burial 
of Sir John Moore ;" the simplicity, pathos, and sublimity of 
which, place it in the highest rank of lyrical compositions, and 
insure immortality to its author. The history of this exqui- 
site little production is extraordinary ; and proves how much 
accident has sometimes to do not merely in eliciting works of 
genius, but in establishing their subsequent fiime. In Captain 
Medwin's " Conversations of Lord Byron," published in 
October 1824', the following passage occurs: 

" The conversation turned after dinner on the lyrical poetry 
of the day, and a question arose as to which was the most 
perfect ode that had been produced. Shelley contended for 
Coleridge's on Switzerland, beginning ' Ye clouds, &c.,' others 
named some of Moore's Irish Melodies, and Campbell's 
Hohenlinden; and had Lord Byron not been present, his 
own Invocation in Manfred, or the Ode to Napoleon, or on 
Prometheus, might have been cited. 

" ' Like Gray,' said he, ' Campbell smells too much of the 
oil : he is never satisfied with what he does ; his finest things 
have been spoiled by over-polish. Like pamtings, poems 
maybe too highly finished. The great art is efiect;, no matter 



bow produced. I will show you an ode you have never seen, 
that I consider little inferior to the best which the present 
prolific iige has brought forth.' 

" With this he left the table, almost before the cloth was 
removed, and returned with a Magazine, from which he read 
the following lines on Sir John Moore's burial: — " 

(The Ode, as quoted by Captain Medwiii, being very in- 
accurate, is omitted here : it will be found in the sequel in its 
original and authentic form.) 

" The feeling with which he recited these admirable 
stanzas I shtdl never forget. After he had come to an end, 
he repeated the third, ami said it was perfect, particularly 
the lines — 

' But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, 
With his martial cloak around him.* 

*' ' I should have taken the whole,' said Shelley, ' for a 
rough sketch of Campbell's.' — * No,' replied Lord Byron, 
* Campbell would have claimed it, if it had been his.' 

" I afterwards had reason to think tlmt the Ode was ix)rd 
Byron's * ; that he was piqued at none of his own being men- 
tioned ; and, after he had praised the verses so highly, could 
not own them. No other reason can be assigned for his not 
acknowledging himself the author; particularly as he was a 
great admirer of General Moore." 

This passage produced a very able and animated letter, 
inserted in the Morning Chronicle of the 29th of October 
1824, from John Sydney Taylor, Esq. one of Mr. Wolfe's 
" earliest and dearest friends;" in which that gentleman, 
justly observing that " if the fame of men of genius be worth 
any thing in a public point of view, it is of some consequence 
that it should be rightly appropriated," successfully asserts 
the right of Mr. Wolfe to the celebrity which the beautiful 

" ' I am corroboTSted in this apimon latelf li}' a lady «rhose brother rcccited 
Ihem man; yean ago from Lord Byron, ia bii lonlthlp'a own biDd-miting." 



poetical effuniou in question is so well calculated to confer. 
The following is an extract from Mr. Taylor's letter : 

" The Ode which the captain so hastily ascribes to the 
noble bard, and which Shelley was willing to appropriate to 
Campbell, was the production of no poet known to fiune. 
, Never did an lustance occur in which the iDfluence of tho 
idolatry that men pay to established r^utations was more ^ 
conspicuous. The first poet of the day reads an anonymous 
poem, in which he detects a genius kindred to his own. 
He recites it with enthusiasm to his friends — ^^one of diem 
names another distinguished poet as the author — he rejects 
the presumption, and the admiring circle instantly dis- 
cover its writer in himself. If it be not Campbell, it must 
be Byron; 

' 'Tia Phoebus' self, or else the Mantuan swain.' 

" In this nranper is this unclaimed poem ascribed to Byron, 
although he could have no possible grounds for concealing 
his name; but, on the contrary, every reason that ought to 
induce him to avow it. Tlie poem is one replete with con- 
densed pathos and grandeur, and breathing all the fire of 
lyrical inspiration. It is, besides, evidently written under the 
generous impulse of redeeming from sordid obloquy the me- 
mory of a great man — the benefactor of his country, and the 
victim of a faction. It is the tribute of a true poet at the 
grave of departed worthy not ashamed to perform the ob- 
sequies of a fallen hero, which the intrigue of party prevented 
the nation from rendering to one of her bravest and most 
accomplished soldiers. Here was every inducement why 
Byron should acknowledge himself the author of this Ode, 
hail it indeed emanated from his pen. He was proud of 
vindicating the character of men whom ' the vulgar great' 
traduced, and whom their country ought not to have forgotten. 
Whether he gratified a generous ardour in so doing, or whe- 
ther an impatience of authority impelled him, it matters not. 
Whatever his motive was. for ^corning the decrees of power. 



or the sentiments of illiberality, he hsd ncnie to induce bim 
to resort to subterfuge or concealment. WheUier right or 
vrong, he took his stand openty in the face of fais enemies, 
and threw down the gauntlet with the sternest action of 

" This being the case, supposing the writer of the poem 
for ever nnknown, it would not be reasonable to presume 
Lord ByMWo was its author ; not even although «s many ladies 
as would e«|ual the number of the muses and the graces con' 
joined, had each seen a copy of it in his lordship's own hand' 
writing. But how would the literary conclave have been 
astonished had Byron been enabled to inform them that this 
poem, so IiHig nnclaimed, so much admired, was the produc- 
tion of one who was totally unknowTi to fame — one who had 
never been talked of in any periodical, whose name bad not 
even been whispered in Albemarle Street or the Row. This 
person was Charles Wolfe. His talents were known only to 
^le private circle of his associates. He was one of my earliest 
and dearest friends. We were cotemporaries of equal stand- 
ing in the University of Dublin. Similarity of pursuit created 
intimacy. Though sometimes competitors for the same aca- 
demic honours it impaired, not our sense of mutual esteem, 
Wolfe was equally distinguished in the severe sciences, and In 
polite literature. Emulation, I believe, led him toexcelin the 
former ; but the latter had all his intellectual affection. I 
well recollect the expression of mingled diffidence and enthu- 
siasm with which he communicated to me his tribute to the 
memory of Sir John Moore. He had thenwritten but the 
first and last verses, and had no intention of adding any 
others. The thought was inspired while reading an account 
of the death of the Marcellus of Corunna in some periodical 
work ; the approbation which these two verses received from 
the few fellow-students to whom he showed them, among 
whom were the Rev. J. Sullivan, now vicar of St. Catherine's, 
Dublin, the Rev. Mr. Dickenson, and, I believe, Mr. Grierson, 
of the Irish bar, and one or two more, induced him to extend 
the design, and finish the ode in the form, though not ezacdy 



woFded) as it came from Lord Byron's haiuls. When be 
showed it to me completed, which, I think, was some time in 
the year 1814, I did not take a copy of it, but the verses im- 
pressed themselves indelibly on my recollection. I heard, a 
few years afterwards, when we separated for different pursuits 
in life, that a copy of them, witliout the particijlation of Wolfe, 
had got into an Irish newspaper *, whence they were copied 
into a magazine. 1 did not see them published until they re- 
appeared within the last year in the Devizes Gazette, under 
the title of " The Dead Soldier." They had, I presume, 
been ell this time circulating about from one journal to 
another ; and the author never took the pains of correcting 
the errors which have been perpetuated from the first imper- 
fect copy to that which Captain Medwin has given to the 
public These errors detract greatly from the spirit and 
beauty of tlie original. I shall correct them, and restore the 
ode to the state in which it came Irom the hands of the 
author ; as my memory has always been tenacious of every 
syllable of it. The fame of Sappho is realized by a solitary 
fragment. The existence of Wolfe will be remembered by 
one of the shortest, but one of rfie most impressive odes in 
the language. It would be matter of regret If a work, though 
so small, yet bearing the impress of immortality, should not 
go down to future times with all the excellence which the 
genius of the author conferied on it. When volumes of verses 
that enjoy the popularity of a season shall have disappeared, 
this little ode, which its author never ventured to publish, 
will take its place among whatever is classic and enduring 
in the literature of our day." 

Mr. Taylor proceeds, with great critical taste, to point out 
the various corruptions which had crept into the ode, and 
their injurious effect. Mr. Russell suggests one or two further 
litde corrections. Subjoined is a copy of the ode restored to 
its pure and native state : — 

• TbeNewry Telegraph of tbe 19lh of April 1817. 



" The Burial t^Sir John Modre. 

" Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note. 
As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; 
Not ft soldier discharged his farewell shot 
O'er the grare where our hero we buried. 

' We buried him darkly at dead of night, 
The aods with our bayonets turning; 
By the struggling moon-beam's misty light. 
And the lantern dimly burning. 

' No aselesB coffin enclosed his breast, 

Not in sheet or in shroud we wound iiim ^ 
But he lay like a warrior taking his rest — 
With bis martial cloak around him. 

' Few and short were the prayers we said. 
And we spoke not a word of sorrow ; 
But we sleftdfastly gaz'd on the face that was deaJ, 
And we bitterly thought of the morrow. 

' We thought, as we hollow'd his narrow bed. 
And smootb'd down his lonely pillow, 
That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er bis bead. 
And we far away on the billow I 

' Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, 
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him, — 
But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on 
In the grave where a Briton has laid him. 

' But half of our heavy task was done. 

When the clock struck the hour for retiring ; 
And we heard the distant and random gun 
That the foe was sullenly firing. 



" Slowly and sadly we laid him down, 

From cbe field of his fame fresh and gory; 
We carv'd not a line, aad we lais'd not a stone, 
But we left him alone with his glory !" 

A subsequent letter to Mr. TaylOT, from the Rev. J. Sul- 
livan, with a sight of which we have been favoured, thus 
describes the circumstances which led to the composition of 
the ode. 

" The poem was commenced in my company. The oc- 
CBsitMi was as follows : Wolfe came into my room one even- 
ing while I was reading the Edinburgh Annual Register; X 
think it was the volume for 1809 *, and which concluded 
with an account of the battle of Corunna, and the death of 
Sir John Moore. It appeared to me to be admirably written ; 
and although the writer might not be classed amongst the 
veiy warmest admirers of that lamented general, yet he cor^ 
diatly appreciated his many great and amiable qualities, and 
eagerly seized upon every opportunity of doing him generous 
and ample justice. In college we do not always lay down our 
books when visited by our friends, at least, t/ou know, to your 
cost, that such is not no/ practice. I made our dear departed 
friend listen to me while I read the account which the adr 
inirable writer (I conjectured that he must be Mr. Southey) 
made to assume a classical interest ; and we both felt kindled 
and elevated by a recital which was calculated to concentrate 
whatever of glory or interest attached in oar young imagin- 

* ItwBt the Tolume fOT IROS. The following is the conclusion of the passage 
to which Mr. SullivnD alludes. 

" Sir Joha Moore hod often uid, that if he was killed in baUte, he wiihed to 
be buried where be felL The body was remoied atroidiiight to the cilsdel of 
Coninna. A grsTe wu dug for him on the rampart there, by a party of the 9th 
regiment ; the aide*-du Camp attendimg by turns, tta coffin could be procured ; 
and the officers ofhis staff wrapped the body, dressed as it was, in a military cloak 
and blankets. The interment was hastened; for, about »ght in the morning, some 
firing was faeardi and the officers feared that if a serious attack were made, they 
should be ordered away, and not auSbred to pay him their last duly. The officers 
ofhis family bore him to the grare ; the funeral scrtice wsa read by the chaplain ; 
and the corpu w*a coTeud vith eudi." (Sdinbtcrgh jfnmial Register, 1S08, 
p. 458.) 



ations to Cbeeroa^ or Marathon, upon the spoUess valour of 
a British soldier. When 1 had done, Wolfe and I walked 
into the country ; and I observed that he was totally inatten- 
tive to the objects aronnd him; and in conversation absent 
and self-evolved. He was, in fact, silently composing ; and, 
in a short time, he repeated for me (without writing them 
down) the first and last stanzas of his beautiful ode, which, as 
you have truly stated in the Morning Chronicle, were all 
that he at first intended. I was exceedingly pleased by them ; 
and I believe the admiration I expressed partly induced him 
' to snpply the other stanzas. Every one of the corrections 
which you have suggested is right. Your memory has served 
you admirably to restore the ode to the state in which it was 
hh by its lamented author." 

In adverting to the passage in Captain Medwin's work, in 
which it is stated, that Campbdl's Hdienlinden was ad- 
duced by some of the company at Lord Byron's as one of 
the finest specimens of lyricid composition, Mr. Russel ob- 
serves, that that powerfully descriptive and sublime ode was 
a peculiar favourite with Mr. Wolfe. " The awful imagery 
presented in such a rapid succession of bold and vivid Sashes ; 
— the burning thoughts which break forth in such condense 
energy of expression, and the incidental touches of deep and 
genuine pathos, which characterize the whole poem, never 
failed intensely to affect his imagination, and to draw out the 
most rapturous expressions of admiration. It was, indeed, 
the peculiar temperament of his mind, to display its emotions 
by the strongest outward demonstrations. Such were his 
intellectual sensibilities, and the corresponding vivacity of his 
animal spirits,' that the excitation of his feelings generally 
discovered itself by the most lively expressions, and some- 
times by an unrestrained vehemence of gesUcutation, which 
often afforded amusement to his more sedate or less impressible 
acquaiiftances. Whenever, in the company of his friends, 
any thing occiu-red in his reading, or to hjs memory, whicb 
powertuUy affected his imagination, he usually started &om 
his seat, flung aside his chair, and pacetl about the room, 



^ving vent to his admiration in repeated exclamations of 
delight, and in gestures of the most animated rapture. No- 
thing produced these emotions more strongly than music, 
of the pleasures of which he was in the highest degree sus- 
ceptible. He had on ear formed to enjoy, in the most ex- 
quisite manner, the simplest melody, or the richest harmony. 
With but iitde cultivation, he bad acquired sufficient skill 
in the theory of this accomplishmeDt, to relish its highest 
charms, and to exercise a discriminative taste in the appre- 
ciation of any composition or performance, in that delightful 
art. Sacred music above all, (especially the compositions of 
Handel,) had the most subduing — the most transporting 
efiect upon his feelings, and seemed to enliven, and sublimate 
his devotion to the highest pitch. He understood and felt 
all the poetry of music, and was particularly felicitous in 
catching the spirit and character of a simple air or a national 
melody." Of this aptitude to adapt bis poetical talents to 
such subjects Mr. Russell gives a happy specimen, in an 
English song which he wrote to the grand national Spanish 
air of " Viva el Rey Fernando." 

"For a short period," — we again quote Mr. Russell, — 
*' he prosecuted his studies with such effect as to render it a 
matter of regret to all who were interested for him, that he 
did not persevere in his efforts, and that he allowed any 
trifling interruptions to divert him from his object. He 
evinced, indeed, a solidity of understanding and a clearness 
of conception which, with ordinary diligence and proper 
management, might have soon made him master of all those 
branches of learning required in the fellowship course of the 
Dublin University; but, the habits of his mind, and the pe- 
culiarity of his disposition, and the variety of his taste, seemed 
adverse to any thing like continued and laborious application 
to one definite object. It was a singular characteristic of 
his mind that he seldom read any book throughout, not even 
those works in which he appeared most to delight. What- 
ever he read, he thoroughly digested and accurately retained; 
but, his progress through any book of an argumentative or 



specuktive nature was impeded by a di^uUtlve tutut of 
thoi^ht and a fertiUty of invention which su^ested ingenioiu 
ok^eotions and started new theories at every step. Aecord- 
ingly, this constitution of mind led bim raUier to investi- 
gate the grounds of an author's hypothesisi and to satisfy his 
own mind upon the relaUve probabilities of coidicting <^ii- 
nions, than to plod oii patiently throu^ a long course^ merely 
to lay up in his memory the particular views and arguments 
of each writer, without consideration of their impwtance or 
dieir finindation. He was not content to know what bo 
author's opinions wer^ but how &r they were right, or 
wrong. The examination of a single melaphyucal specula- 
tion of Locke, or a moral argument of Buder, usually cost 
him more time and tbou^t than would carry ordinary minds 
through a wb<^ volume. It was also remarkable diat in 
the perusal ctf mere works of &ncy — the most interesting 
poems and romances of the day, he lingered with such de- 
light oa the first striking passages, or entered into such 
minute criticism upon every beauty and defect as he went 
along, diat it usually h^pened, either that the volume was 
hurried fixHs him> or that some other engagement intorupted 
him before be had finished it. A great portion of tdiat he 
bad thus read he could almost repeat from memoiy; and 
while the recollection afforded him much ground of future 
enjoyment, it was sufficient also to set his own mind at work 
in the same direction. The &cility of his disposition also 
exposed him to many interruptions in bis studies. Even 
in the midst of the most important engagements, he had not 
resolution to deny himself to any visitor. He used to woteh 
anxiously for every knock at his door lest any one should be 
disf^pointed or delayed who sought for him ; and, such was 
the good-natured simplicity of his heart, that, however sorely 
lie sometimes felt fjie intrusion, he still rendered himself so 
agreeable, even to his most common-place ocquiuntances, as to 
encourage a repetition of their importunities. He allowed 
himself to become the usual deputy of every one who applied 
to him to perform any of the routine coU^jjiate duties which 




be was qualified to discharge ; and dins his tine vna so mocil 
invaded, that be seldom bad any interval fer oMiUnued tppll* 
eatlon to his own immediate business. Besides, tiie social 
h^t of his deposition, which deligfeted in tfie company 
of select friends, and prefM'r^d the animated encounter of 
odKvttsatkmid debate to the less inviting exercise of solitary 
ftudy, and his varied taste, which conld take interest in every 
(A^ect of raticma} and intellectual enjoyment, served tp scatter 
Ills mind, and divert it from that steadiness of apfdication 
whi<^ is actnafly necessary for the att^ment of distHiguished 
eminence in any pursHit." 

* Bst his character was soen to experience a total change from 
the admission of a new principle Hito his nature. " Happening 
to become acquainted with an inta'esUng and highly respeoC- 
able fiimSy, who resided in the most fHCtoresque part o( the 
munty ef Dsl^, be frequently visited them, sharing in eU die 
refined pleasures of their domestic circle, and parttdtkig mth 
Aem in the exhilarating enjoyment of the nir^ and romantEo 
scenery around tbem. With every member of the femily ha 
soon became cordially intimate; but, with one — this inti- 
macy gradually and almost unconsciously grew into a decided 
attacttment. 'Jlie attainment of a fellowship would bideed 
have afforded him means sufficient to realize his hopes^ but 
unhappily, the statote which raid«^ marriage incompa- 
tible mth that honorable station, had been lately revived. 
His prospects of obtaining a competency m any other pursuit 
were so distant and uncertain, that the fttmily of the yomig 
lady deemed it prudent at once to break off all further 
intercourse, before a mutual engagement had actually taken 
place." The effect which so severe a dis^pcuntment must 
bare produced oa such a bang as.Woltie, may be easily con- 
ceived. It pressed upon both mind and body. Until this 
unfortunate epoch of his life he had been in the enjoym^it of 
like most robust heakh ; but the sickness at his heart soon 
BOntmonicated itself to his whole frame. Even^ bis gtinerid 
depOi^imeRt was qaite altered. " No otK,"* says tiie aatbcH* 
of College Ree(rftecti(»s, ■* eoald now comply of his ardent 



«nd «3rri)era»t spirits, nor ytt nccuse Utt of b^ig abMOt or 
abstracted. He paid a pc^te attention to evtsry ihiag that 
was passing in company ; not a seeming, but a real attentkm, 
aa long as be ooald keep down tiie Olroog eensatiCHis of his 
heart I have seen hira sometinies, a^tarently oTercome, 
Dorer his eyes with his hand, and seemitigly give a loose to 
bis inward feelings; and then, when be nmsed hims^ to 
resume his plaoe in company, I could see (bat die expression 
of bis countenance was, as it were, a stru^Ie between ten- 
derness and severity, as if he bad felt a tear rising to bis eye, 
and had frowned it away indignantly. It was, of course^ 
when alone, Ibat the power of his afiection most overmastered ' 
btm, and then the influence of idwtract studies was but 
-a poor «>ziliary against the impetuonty of a, domineering 
pnsion^ The reader will be aUe to Sana an ofrinioii of the 
atttte in which he passed his private hom^ from a cirCMmstaiwe 
m^iAi oecurred, one evening in a company where I was 
present. I bad been sitUng with gome frieods on a winter 
night, after our severJ studies for the day were over, when vre 
were jtnned by a vuitor whose character would well deserve 
a longer notice ±aa 1 can here affiird to give of k. He 
-was vety much addicted to mathematical pursuits, and bad 
attained a high proficiency in them, but np<m most other 
subjedB was but very slightly informed. Indeed ha had aa 
inward cont«npt for all oUier studies than those in which be 
faimsf^r excelled, and, more parUcukrly, for afl oonneded 
friib taste and imapnation. * What bwe we bwe?' said 
he, looking at tiie open book upon die toHe. * Words- 
worth's Excuraon 1 TTiis is the man tbat bAbles about green 
fields. Well, geirtlem«i, don't let me mterrupt your agree- 
able conversation. Don't, I beg of you, speak sense in oom- 
pUment to me. I have got some pliers of Waller's to look 
over, and so you may speak poetry «*ile I am e i tam i nii ^ 
Aem.* We t«suDied our conversation, and he proceeded to 
Ae exarainatiort of the papers. Some mdistinct mivmiin 
drew our attention towards him, and w« saw an egression 
" of sarcastic triumph in his countenance. After remuning for 
a 2 



Mnne time Mlent, and i4>p&reDtly enjoying the discovery he 
had made, he said, ' Oendem^i, some c^ you who are better 
acquainted with this kind of language than I am, may be 
able to explain an expression I have met with here, and whidi 
I do not think stricUy algebraic' He ^owed us the paper : 
it was intended for a calculation of a comet's parhelion di8>- 
tanee; but the calculaUoQ had been interrupted by ^some 
thought whidk Waller had not been able to suppress, and be 
had given it expression : — 

* That smile 111 remember ftr ever.' 

'* It was in this maimer that his passion di^iayed itself in 
pursuits so seemingly uncongeniaL In one place we found it 
most ingenious and beautifol solution of a very difficnlt pro- 
Uem. Even our sarcastic visitor muttered his applause ; and 
just under the calculation there was written; ' Oh grie^ 
grief r It was a piuoful thing to witness- the proo& which 
Uiese papers affiarded of the anguish to which poor Waller's 
mind had become a prey ; and to see that his virtuous stni^ 
gles to dis«igage himself Iram the remembrances which were 
consumiDg him, were of so littie avaiL His studies had b^ 
come more desultory ; and his m^nory was no longer teno- 
«ous; and when the examination for the adjudgment of 
fellowships drew near, he found that he eould no^ with credk 
to himself, appear as a candidate. Some time after this i 
met him on his return from the law-courts. He spoke of 
some of our old acquuntances, whom he had seen engaged 
in the l^xmrs, or, at least, «ideavouiing to advance tbeuL- 
selves in the knowledge of their profession ; and he feh as if 
he had remiuned stationary, during the general progress of alt 
his contemporaries. He ^>oke as if he could not continoe to 
devote hiidself to his present stupes ; that he must have im- 
perious and active duties to perfwm : whI that it was only by 
active ^nf^yment in such duties he could hope to atone for 
his past idleness, and to compensate his friends for the dii>- 
appointment he had caused them." 



A few days previous to his ordination, his feelings received 
another-'«^ck by the death of the Rev. Hercules Henry 
Graves, who had be«i his fellov student, and one of bts 
most valued and intimate friends. '* Under the de^ Impres- 
sion of two such afflictive trials," Mr. Russell observes, " hs 
was obliged to prepare for removal frwn socie^ which hs 
loved, — from the centre of science and literature to which he 
was so much devoted, to an obscure and remote country 
curacy in the north of Ireland, where he could not hope to 
meet one individual to enter into his feelings, or to hold 
communion with him upon the accustomed subjects of his 
former puTfiuits." 

Mr. W<Jfe's first curacy was a temporary one at Ballyclo^ 
in Tyrone. Of the extraordinary change in his situation as 
compared with the luxury of the metropolis he faad quitted^ 
the following extract of a letter from him to one of his college 
friends, dated December 11, 181 7, will give some idea: 

" I am now sitting by myself opposite my turf fire, with my 
BiMe beside me, in the only furnished room of the glebe< 
bouse — surrounded by mountains, frost and snow, and with 
a set of people with whom I am totally unacquainted, except 
a disbanded artillery-man, his wife, and two children) who 
^tend me, ^ the churchwarden, and the clerk of the parishi" 

Soon af^r, Mr. Wolfe removed to Castle Caulfield, the 
[xincipal village of the purish of Sonoughmore, in the diocese 
t)£ Armagh. His journey thither was thus whimsically da- 
scribed by himself: 

" One waggon contained my whole fortune and family 
(with the exception of a cow, which was driven along-side of 
the waggon), and its contents were two large trunks, a bed 
and its (^pendages ; and on the top of these, which wer« 
piled dp so as to make a very commuiding appearance-— sat 
a woman (my future house-keeper) and her three children, 
and by their side stood a calf of three weeks old, which has 
latel5 become an inmat« in my family." 

Thisf alas I was but assumed gaiety. Justly might be hava 
md in the words of Desdemona, ,, 

G 3 



<■ I &m not merty ; but I do beguile 
The thiiig I am, by. Ecsmiug otherwia*^ 

His virtuous and msnly mind, however, sug^eeted to him tbe 
only efficflciouB mode of diminbhing the mental distress which 
he endured ; and he endeavoured, in alleviating the suf^rings 
of others to foi^t his own. Among other instances of his 
benevolent self-devotion, it is recorded, that on finding & poor 
lamity in a distant hovel of his parish, shivering and faunsbed, 
he not only affi>rded them the immediate relief which his 
purse could supply, but on his return home, sent them the 
blankets from his own bed for their covering. 

Of some of the concluding scenes of the life of this amiable 
but itl-fiited son of genius, the following detached extracts 
from Mr. Russell's more full and detailed narrative, present a 
picture at once gratifying and melancholy. 

« TTie sphere of duty in which Mr. Wolfe was ^gaged, 
was extensive and laborious. A large portion of the parish 
was situated in a wild hilly country; abounding in bogs and 
trackless wastes; and tbe population was so scattered, that ii 
was a work of nj ordinaiy difficulty to keep up that inter- 
course with his flock, upon which the success of a Christian 
minister so much depends. When he entered- upon his work, 
be found the church rather thinly attended ; but, in a short 
time, the effects of his constant zeal, his impreiMive style of 
preaching, and his daily and affectionate convene with his 
parishioners, were visible in the crowded and attentive coii- 
gregations which began to gather round him. 

" The success of a Christian pastor d^>eads almost as 
much on the matins as the matter of his instruction. In this 
respect, Mr. Wolfe was peculiarly h^py, especially witii die 
lower classes of the people, who were much engaged by the 
a^ctionate cordiality and the simple earnestness of his deport- 
ment towards them. In his conversations with the jrfiiin 
former or humble labourer, he usually laid his hands upon 
tlieir shoulder or caught them by the arm ; and, while he was 
insinuating bis arguments, or enforcing his appeals with all 
the variety of simple illustralicMM which a prolific f«aey could 



upplyj hefaatcoed an anxbos ejs UpcHi the oeuotenanOe tit 
•be peraoe; be was «ddres6iit^ as if eagerly Maititig some 
gleain of iatellig^nce, to show that he was understood and 

" During the year that the typhus fevn* raged most vio^ 
lendy in the north of Ireland, his neighbourhood was miwh 
afflicted with tfie disease ; and thus, tlie important duty of 
visiuog the Bti^ (which to him was always a work of most 
anxious fidUcitude,) has vastly iQ(»'eased ; and he accordingly 
^jpiied hiffiself with indefatigable zeal inevet^ quarter of liis ex< 
toided pM-isb, in administering ten^wral and ^iritaa) aid te hi$ 
poor flock. In the discbar^^ of such duties he exposed bimseir 
to trequent colds ; and bis disrt^rd of ell precailtion, and oC 
the ordinary comforts of life to which he had been accuattme^ 
soon, unhappily conBrmed a consumptive tendency in bis con^ 
stitudont of which some symptoms a[q>eared when in coll^|e.* 
His frame was robust, and his general healtii usdally stronig] 
Iwtj an habitual oougl^ of wbicli he himself seemed alnuKt 
oBomscieuE, often excited the apprehensions of his friends^ 
and at tet^th, in the spring of 1821, the cotnphunt, of which 
it seemed tlie forerunner, began, to make manifest inroads upon 
his constitution' No arguments) however, could foi! a long 
time •disteade biffl &<hd his usual work. So Itttledidhe him^ 
self r^ard the hdal symptoms, that he could not be [H'aviiled 
upon to rdax his parochial labors. At length, however, hit 
altered looks, and otkex un&vorable symptoms appeared ao 
danam^ that some of his most re^iectable parishioners wtote 
to his fiieods in Dublin, to urge them to use their influence id 
persuading him to retire for awhile from his arduous duties; 
and lo. have the best medical advice for Mm without further 
delay. — But such was the anxiety he feltfcnr hb parish, and 
so little conscious did he seem of the decliniog state of his 
liealtf), thai no entreaties could aviuL The rapeated accounts 
i^.hit sinking health at last ilmpelled the friend wbo now" 

• Several oT Mr. Wolfe's most intimate tollege rriends hare no recollectioQ of 
sn; such syiaptOin!! ) but, on the eontis<7, speak titYit tingtiUi health wben U 



feebly attempts Aa htunble record of his worth, to s^ off at 
once to visit him, and to use all his inSuence to mduce bhn 
to submit to wfaat appeared bo plmnlj' the will of Provideiic^ 
and to Suspend his labors, until his strength was sufficiently 
recruited to resume them with renewed vigor. In the mean 
time, (about the middle of May, 1821,) he had been hinried 
ofiTto Scodand by the importunate intreaties of a lundand re- 
spected iHother-clergyman, in his neighbourhood, in order to 
consult a physician, celebrated for his skill in such cases. — 
On his way to Edinburgh he happened to fall in with a de- 
putation trom the Irish tract-socie^ who were going to that 
city to hold a meeting for the promoti<Hi of their import^l 
objects. — Notwithstanding the languor of his fram^ and the 
irritation of a harassing cough, he was preyailed upon to exort 
his eloquence in this interesting cause, — In some of the 
speeches made upon that occasion, he thought that the dark 
side of the character of his countrymen had been strongly ex* 
hibited, while the brighter put was almost entirely kept out 
of view. With characteristic feeling, he stood up to pres«)t 
the whole image with all its beauties as well as its defects. 

*' On his return from Scotland, the writer met him at a 
friend's house within a few miles of his own residence ; and, 
on the following Sunday, accompanied him through the prin- 
dpal part of his parish to the church ; and never can he 
forget the scene he witnessed as they drove t<^ther along the 
road, and through the village. It must give a more lively ideft 
of his character and conduct as a parish clergyman than any 
labored delineation, or than a mere detail of particular iacts. 
As he quickly passed by, all the poor pei^e and ctuldren ran 
out to their cabin-doors to welcome him, with looks and ex- 
|wess)ona c^ the most ardent a&ectioo, and with ail diat wild 
devotion of gratitude so characteristic <^ the Irish peasantry. 
Many fell upon their knees invoking blessings upon him ; imd 
long after they were out of hearing, they remained in the 
same attitude, showing', by their gestures that they were still 
ofiering up prayers for him; and, some even followed the 
carriage a long distance, making the most anxious inquiries ' 



^wut his health. 'He was sensibly moved bjr this muiifesU 
ation of feeling, and met it with all that heartiness of expre»- 
sion, and tiiat afiecUonate simplicity of manner, which made 
bim as much an object of love, as his exalted virtues rendered 
him an object of respect. 

" It con scarcely be a matter of surprise that he should feel 
much reluctance in leaving a station where bis ministry ap- 
peared to be so useful and acceptable; and accordin^y, 
though peremptorily required by the physician he had just 
consulted, to retire for some time from all clerical duties, it 
was with difficult he could be dislodged irom his pos^ and 
forced away to Dublin, where most of his friends resided. 

" It was hoped that timely relaxation from duty, and a 
change in hb mode of living to what he had been OT%inally 
accustomed, and suitable to the present delicate state of his 
health, might avert the &tal disease with which he was 
threatened. The habits of his life, while he resided on his 
cure, w«re in ev^y respect calculated to confirm his constitu- 
tional tendency to consumption. He seldom thought of pro< 
viding a r^ular meal ; and his humble cottage exhibited 
every i^pearance of the neglect of the ordinary comforts of 
life. A few stra^ling rusb-bottomed chairs, piled up with 
his books — a small rickety table before the fire-place, 
covered with parish memoranda ; and two trunks containing 
all his papers, — servinj^ at the same time, to cover the 
broken parts of the floor, constituted all the fiimiture of his 
sitting-room. The mouldy walls of the closet in which he 
slept, were hanging with loose folds of damp pt^er ; and, 
between this wretched c^l and his parlour, was the kitchen, 
which was occupied by the disbanded soldier, bis wife, and 
their numerous brood of children, who had migrated with 
bim firom his first quarters, and seemed now in fiill possession 
of tlie whole concern, entertaining him merely as a lodger, 
and usurping the entire disposal of his small plot of ground, 
as the absolute lords of the soil. 

" After he left this comfortless home, he resigned himself 
entirely to the disposal of bis family. Thotigh bis malady 



seemed to ioCTease, sod hia fr^me to becoBie more innciMed^ 
still his natural spirits and mental elasticity continued unim- 
pwed ; so mtidi' sot that he contisiied to preaeh occasieiiiilljr 
ID Dublin with, his usual energy, until the friendly i^ysiciaai 
to whom he had now submitted his case, absolutely forbade 
all present exercise of clerical duties. 

" His anxiety about the provision ibr his duties in hia 
parish, seemed for a long time materially to interrupt every 
enjoyment which might tend to his recovery. Indeed his 
feelings vere so alive to the subject, that be could scarcely be 
satisfied with any arrangement which his kind clerical frieads 
coald make for him, under conviction that no occssioaal de- 
puty can fully fill the place of the re^Iar ministn' of the 
parish ; and, unhappily, the advanced age and infirfliiUe& oC 
hb rector ruidered any exertions on his part impracticable. 

" For some months after his removal from hib parish^ hia 
health appeared to fluctuate, as is sonietimes the Case at Uw 
commencement of such complaints as his ; and, it waa con- 
sidered necessary, towards the approach of winleTj that ha 
should go to the south of France, as the most probable mejaits 
sf avertiug from him the threatened m&lady. In his attempt 
' to reach Bourdeaux, he was twi«e driven back to H<dyhead, 
by violent and adverse gales, and suffered so much from th4 
e&cts, that it was deemed prudent to abandon the p\ait, and 
settle near JBixeter during the winter and ensuing spring. 

" Afler his return from Exeter, he remained during the 
summer wiih his iriends in and near Dublin. His general 
health appeared not to have undergone any mtderial chuigje 
in the mean time; but his cough Continued . so violent and 
distressing, that he was oi>der«d to go to Bourdeaux uid baichv 
for the benefit of the voyage., 

" In less than a month he returned from BourdjewRX^ adcl 
seemed to have derived some' benefit from die voyage ; but 
this was of short -eoatinuance. The fatnl disease which' had- 
been long apprehended, proved to have taken full hold ^ hi* 
constitution: hi^ stren^ appeared to sink fast, and bb 
spirits to flag! The' boueding step which expressed Aconstaob 



boo^Btie^ (tf miad, now became slow and feeble ; bis robl»^ 
and upright figure, began to droop; his marked and co- 
ntinent features acquired a sbarpnCss of form, and bie com- 
plexion, naturally fiur, assumed the pallid cast of wasting 
disease; and all the other symptoms of consumption soon dis- 
covered themselves ; and, 

< Ev'n when his serious eyes were lighted up 
With kiDdling mirth ; nnd, from his lips distill'd 
Words soft as dew, aod cheerful as the dawn, 
Then, too, I could have wept ; for on his face, 
£ye» voice, and smile ; nor lets, his bending frame,— 
By other cause impaired than length of years, 
Lay something that still tum'd the thoughtful heart 
To melandioly dreams, — dreams of decay, 
Of death, and burial, and the silent tomb.' 

" About the end of November, it was thought advisable, as 
the las^ remainbg hope, that he should guard against the 
severity of the winter, by removing to the Cove of Cork, 
which, by its peculiar situation, is sheltered on all sides from 
the harsh and prevailing winds. Thither he was accompanied 
by the writer, and a near relative to whom he was fondly 
attached. For a short time he appeared to revive a litde ; 
and sometimes entered into conversation with almost hia 
usual animation: but, the first unfavourable change of weather 
shattered his remaining strength : his cough now became 
nearly incessant, and a distressing languor weighed down his 
frame. In this state he continued until the S2 1st of February, 
1823, upon the morning of which day he expired, — in the 
32d year of his age." 

From the nnmerous and various compositions and fig- 
ments, both in prose and in verse, the beauty of which, when 
they become a little more known, must insure "TTie Remains 
of the late Rev. Charles Wolfe," a place in the library of 
every admirer of virtue, feeUng, taate, and genius, we select 
the two following speomena. The first, t^e subject of which, 



we understAnd, was the brother of the mistress of die poet's 
sfiections, will strongly Remind the reader of Bums, in some 
(^bis most animated moods. 

' My own friend, my own friend! 

There's no one like my own friend ; 
For all the gold 
The world can hold 

I would not give my own friend. 

' So bold and frank hii hearing, hoy, 
Should you meet him onward faring, boy, 

In Lapland's snow 

Or Chili's glow 
You'd say — What news from Erin, boy? 

'■ He has a curious mind, boy — 
'Tis jovial, — 'tis refin'd, boy— • 
'Tis richly fraught 
With random thought. 
And feelings wildly kind, boy. 


' 'Twas eaten up with care, boy, 

For circle, line, and square, boy. 

And few believ'd 

That genius thriv'd 

Upon such drowsy fare, hoy. — 

' But his heart that beat so strong, boy, 
Forbade her slumber long, boy,— 
So she shook her wing — 
And with a spring 
Away she bore along, b^. — 




' Sfae waverB unconfio'd, boy. 
All wayward od the wind, boy — 

Yet her song 

All along 
Was of thoie she left behind, boy 

< And we may let him roam, boy, 

For years and years to come, boy ; 

In storms and seas — 

In mirth and ease, 

He'll ne'er forget his home, boy. 

' Oh give him not to wear, boy, 

Your rings of braided hair, boy, 

Without this fuss 

He'Uthinkofus — 

His heart — he has us there, boy. 

* For what can't be undone, boy. 
He will not blubber on, boy. 
He'll brightly sinile^ 
Yet think the while 
Upon the friend that's gone, boy, 

■ Oh saw you his fireside, boy, 
And those that round it bide, boy— 
You'd glow to see 
The thrilling glee 
Around his fire-side, boy. 


' Their airy poignant mirth, boy, 

From feeling has its birth, boy ; 

'Tis worth the groans 

And the moans 

Of half the dolts on earth, boy. 



" Esch soul that there has smil'd, boy. 
Is Erin'i Bstive tdiild) boy, 
A woodbine flower 
In Erin's bower 
So elegant, so wild, hoy. — 

" The surly clsuds that roll, boy. 
Will not for storms console, boy, 
'Tis the rainbow's light 
So tenderly bright 
That Bi^nsand cheers the soul, boy. 


" I'd ask no friends to mourn, h(>y. 

When I to dust return, boy,— 

No breath of sigh. 

Or brine of eye 

Should gather round my urn, bay> 


' I just would ask a tear, boy, 

From every eye that's there, boy. 

Then a smile each day 

All sweetly gay 

My memory should repair, hoy. 


' The laugh that there endears, hoy. 

The memory of your years, boy, 

Would more delight 

' Your hovering sprite, 

Than half the world's tears, boy." 

In tenderness, simpUci^, and elegance, tfae second sperimen 
that we have selected is, perhaps, unsurpassed in the I^glish 
Janguage. It is thus Introduced by Mr. Russell : — 

" Another of his fevouiile lododies was tfae popular Irish 
air, " Gramachrea" He never he«rd it vitboot being sensibly 



affected by its deep and tender expression ; but be tbougbt 
that no vords bad erer been written for it wbicb came up to 
his idea of the peculiar pBthos which pervades the whole 
strain. He said they all appeared to him to want individualiltf 
of feeling. At the desire of a friend he gave bis own con- 
ception of it in these verses ; whicb it seems hard to read, 
perhaps impossible to hear sung, without tewra. He was 
asked whether he had any real incident in view, or had wit- 
nessed any immediate occurrence which migbt have prompted 
the lines. His reply was, that he had not; but that he had 
sung the air over and over, until he burst into a flood of tears, 
in which mood be composed the words. 

" (jft- — Gramachrec.) 

" If I had thought thou could'st have died, 

I might not weep for thee ; 
But I forgot, when by thy side, 

That thou could'st mortal be ; 
It never through my mind had past. 

The time would e'er be o'er. 
And I on tbee should look my last, 

And thou should'st smile no morel 

' And still upon that face I look. 

And think 'twill smile again ; 
And still the thought J will not brook, 

That I must look In vain ! 
But when I speak ^ thou dost not say, 

What thou ne'er left'st unsaid, 
And now I feel, as well I may. 

Sweet Mary 1 — thou art dead 1 




'■ Ifthouwould'Btstny, e'en as tbouarti 

Atl cold, and all serene — 
I still might preu thy silent heart. 

And where thy smiles have been I 
While e'en thy chill bleak corse I have. 

Thou seemest still mine owd, 
But there, I lay thee in thy grave -^ 

And 1 am now alone ! 

" I do not think, where'er thou art. 
Thou hast forg;otten me ; 
And I, perhaps, may soothe this hearti 

In thinking too of thee; 
Yet there was round thee such a dawn 

Of light ne'er'teen hefbrei 
As lancy never could have drawn^ 
And never can restore!" 





" Dum Spiro Spero." 

X HE Wbitworths rto an Ancient Staffordshire femily. Charley 
Lord Whitworth, the eldest of the six sons of Richard WHit- 
worth, Esq., by Anne, niece of Sir Oswald Mosel^, a Cheshire 
baronet, like the late earl, was a very able and celebrated 
fitatesman and nc^ociator ; having been ^nployed as ambas- 
sador and minister plenipotentiary to the several co^irts of 
Europe, from the reign of king William until the time of his 
death, which happened in 1725. In the year 1704, he was 
sent envoy extraordinaiy to the court of St. Fetersburgh ; he 
appeared in the character of minister plenipotentiary to the 
diet of Ratisbon in 1714 ; he was envoy extraordinary to the 
king of Prussia in 1716; in 1717, he resided in the same 
character at the Hagne; and in 1724, he was nominated 
ambassador extraordinary to the States General. Iiike . the 
Ute earl, also, he was in the year 1 720 created by George I., 
Baron Whitnorth, of Galway, in Ireland ; and, as if to com- 
plete the resemblance, he died without male issue, in ccms^ 
quence of which the title became extinct. 
- Charles, Lord Whitworth, was succeeded in his estates by 
his younger broth», Francis Whitworth, £^., who, in 17S4> 
removed into Kent, purchased the manor of Leybounwr re- 
built the mansion-house called the Grange, and improved 

VOI_ X. H 



and embellished the adjoiniDg grounds. Mr. Whitworth was 
M. P. for Minehesd, Surveyor-General of His Majesty's 
Woods and Forests, and Secretary of Barbadoes ; and died 
in 1743. His son, Sir Charles Whitnorth, Knight*, inherited 
his property ; and for many years held the office of ^ieutenant- 
Govemor of Gravesend and Tilbury Fort He was a- major 
in the West Kent regiment of militia, and chairman pf the 
Quarter Sessions, He also sat in parliament for Mlnehead ; 
wid frequenUy presided in tbfi Committee of Supply. Oa the 
1st of June, 17^9, i^r Charles married Uie ^dcst daughter c^ 
'Bichard Shelley, Esq., Commissioner of the Stamp Office, by 
whom bfi lyad seven children (three sons and four daughters), 
the eldest <^ vhcan is the subject of the following memoir. 

The late earl was born in 1 754, at I^yboume Grange, but 
in 1776 removed wi^ his father to StBunore, Sir Charles 
having, vitb jbis eldest son's consent, obtaiaed an a^ of par- 
liament which.enabled him to sell Leybounie to James Hawley, 
Esq., M. F. and F. R* S., whose wq. Sir Henry Hawley, But, 
DOW resides at that beautitul seat. Earl Whitwortlt was 
educated &t^ Tujftbridge-school, under Mr. Cawthome, the 
' poet, uid Mr. Towers, the traojilator of Csesar and oth^ 
I^tin classics^ Among his scbooUfellows were Colonel Jamea, 
of Tytfaam Lodge, Kent; Christopher Hull, Esq., of Sidoi^; 
«nd the late Ixird Eardley. To the second of these be wa» 
tag; end, it is not a Utile remarkable, that the third was 
treated a baronet whilst at school, which occasioned a holyday 
and treat. Sic Soon efi^r leaving this academy, Mr, Whit- 
worth becama ao officer in the Guards. The successfiil ex- 
ample however, of his predecessor. Lord Whitworth, qqiear- 
;i)g to point out diplomacy as the ha]^iest road to celetmtj 
and preiennenl. It was determined that he should cprnmeace 
ihat career, which eventually led him to honour ^nd distinc- 

After an initiatory trial in a subordinate situation, Mir. Whit- 
worth's Srst mission was to the court of Stanislaus AugqstUEb 
qi F()U))4 where he appeared, in 1796, in the obanetw^^sf 
• H« WM keiBhtwi in ITSB. 



mmister [dcmpotentUry. Warsaw was then tho oeptrs of 
intrigues; for a new partition of Poland b^pened to be 
meiUtaljng at that moment, and the generous attempt at nuti^ijBl 
iqd^end^cfl proved but the signal for the final overthrow of 
that ancient state. Even then the king, an accomplished tntt 
weak prince, was dictated to in bis own ci^ital by tb? 4mba»* 
sador of St. Petersburgb ; and the successor of John Sobieski, 
who saved Vienna from the Turks, and of those pow^rfiil 
princes who held Prussia in vassalage, and considered the 
Russians as a wild Tartarian horde, was reduced to the humi- 
liating necessity of complying with the cruel mandates of 
Frederick, Leopold, and Catharioe. In tbis state of thii^ 
the interests of Dnglai^d were but remotely concerned. It was 
the duty of her minister, indeed, to ward off, as long as po^ 
sible, the meditated dismemberment and annihilation of that 
unhappy country j and more especially to prevent, if possible, 
the annexation of Dantzic to the house of Brandenburgh. 
These were events which did not occur until after the ter- 
mination of Mr. Whitworth's embassy. 

After residing two years in Poland, Mr. Wfaitworth wa^ 
recalled; and, in September 1788, was nominated tq a mvtch 
.more important mission, that of envoy extraordinary and 
minister plenipotentiary to the court of Russia, Warsaw had 
.presented tb^ singular spectacle of a king retailed a kind of 
state prisoner in his own capital, while a foreign ambassadof 
.assumed all the functions of royalty; but St. Petersburgb, on 
the other bond, exhibited a heroine possessed of a masculine 
mind, adored by her own subjects, holding Poland in climn% 
and threatening to render the Greek cross triumphant on the 
shores of the Hellespont. But Catharine was surrounded by 
French philosophers and statesmen; and this circumstance, 
in addition to some recent events of a disagreeable nat^rc^ 
_had created somewhat of an aversion in the bosom of this 
princess to the British cabinet, if not to tlie nation. Froi? 
:tbis f^elin^ consequences un&vourable to the commerce of 
:]^iiuid might bave been uiticipatad, ^ut the French r«volu> 
tioD forewarned her of bar o>vn danger, 
H 2 



- ' tn lf&3, frhen the English ministers determined to take 
'{lart in the confederacy against France, it was thought proper 
to invest the ambassador at St. Petersburg with the Order of 
the Bath, to add dignity to his mission ; and Sir Charles 
Whitworth, from this moment, began to act a conspicuous 
part on this, now become the great theatre of European 
politics. A more intimate connexion than had hitherto snb- 
sisted Ijecame an object of mutual desire ; a subsidiary treaty 
began to be hinted, and the death of the einpress alone pr& 
vented its completion. 

■ TTie zeal of her son and successor, Peteflll., required but 
little stimulus to induce him to make a common cause with 

■the chief potentates of Europe ; and Sir Charles Whitworth 
proved successful in his endeavours in this respect; an event 
which was announced to parliament by the following message, 

■on the 6th of June, J799; — 

" George R. 
**' His Majesty thinks proper to acquaint this House that fae 
has, some time since, concluded an eventual engagement with 
his good brother and ally the Emperor of Russia, for employ- 
ing forty-five thousand men against the common enemy, in 
such manner as the state of af&irs in Europe at that period 
appeared to render most advantageous. The change of cit^ 
cumstances which has since arisen, having rendered a different 
application of that force more desirable, His Majesty has re- 
cently bad the satlslaction to learn, that the views of the 
'Emperor of Russia in that respect are entirely conformable to 
4iis own." 

■ When the papers on this subject were afterwards submitted 
to the lAapection of parliament, it appeared that the English 
-plenipotentiary, after a previous negociation with the chan- 
cellor Prince Besborodko, had concluded a provisional treaty 
■at St Petersburgh in 1798, by which it was agreed on the 
Ipart of His Imperial Majesty, " that in case the King of 
Prussia could be induced to take an active part in the war 


LOaD WHlTWOaTH. 101 

against the common enemy, the Emperor of all the Rttssiaa., 
was ready to afford him a succour of land forces, and he des- 
tine] for that purpose forty-five thousand men, in^try and 
cavalry, with the necessary artillery." But this plan, " the pe- 
cuniary succours for which were to be supplied by his Britannic 
Majesty," was completely defeated by the obstinacy of the 
monarch in (juestion, who firmly persisted in his adherence to 
a system of rigorous neutrality. It was, however, resolved,, 
notwithstanding this adverse occurrence, that so considerable, 
a body of troops should not remain idle; and Sir Charles. 
Whitworth, knowing how much and how deeply England 
was interested in the overthrow of the Batavian republic, con-' 
eluded a convention^ dated June 22d, (lltb) 1799, lor the 
express purpose of employing a portion of them " for the ex- 
pulsion of the French from the Seven United Provinces, ani 
the deliverance of the latter fhHn the yoke under which fhey 
had so long groaned." 

But although Peter III. entered into the confelst ^itb te 
d^ree of enthusiasm worthy of the days of chiv^ry^ and 
although his general, the celebrated Suwarrow, at the head of 
a chosen body of troops, conferred new lustre on the Russian 
arms, the sudden reverse that occurred in Swrtzerland, added 
to some misunderstanding relative fo Holland, and a coolness 
that took plat!e between the t«o Imperial Courts, were cal- 
culated to effect aa alteration in the aspect of public affairs. 
This was completed by a domestic incident, for the introduc- 
tion of an obscure actress produced a complete change in the 
politics of Russia, and all that had been achieved by the 
talents of our minister there was overturned by the arts of a 
cunning and intriguing female. The name of this personage was 
Madame Le Chevalier, and she is said to have been originally 
the mistress of the imperial barber, a Greek domestic who 
possessed great influence with his sovereign. The British 
fiictory ofiered to advance a large sum of money to Sir Charles 
Whitworth to produce a counter-action on the lady; but 
what were ten or fifteen thousand pounds to a rapacious wo' 
H 3 



man, who had an absolute monardi] the autocrat oF all the 
Bussias, at her feet ? 

On the return of the English apibassador, he vas created, 
March 31, 1800, an Irish peer, by the title of Baron Whit- 
worth, of Newport Pratt, in the county of Galway. 

The situation of this country soon after becftme very criUcal 
hi respect to the northern states. They complained that their 
neutrality was no longer respected, that their shores and haN 
hours were violated by the British cruizers, and that even 
their men-of-war were not permitted to afford protection to 
the convoys entrusted to their chai^ge. They urged, at the 
same time, the procrastination, delays, and expences incident 
to the English Court of Admiralty, and seemed resolved to 
recur to decisive measures for the purpose of obtaining re- 
dress. Sweden deemed herself greatly injured on a variety 
of occasions, but particularly by the detention and condemn- 
ation of several merchantmen bound Gh* the Mediterranean, 
under convoy of a ship of war.* She also complained that 
One of her merchantmen, without a cargo, had been seized by 
an English squadron, imd employed in a hostile enterprize 
against two Spanish frigates in the bay of Barcelona, by which 

* On tbe 30tfa of June ItA, a fleet of Swedish merduunnien, cuTTiog pitcb, 
tar, deals, and iron, and Bupposed (o be bouod to the ports of France, SpuD, Por- 
tugal, and the MedilerraneaD, were seized in the BritisJi Channel hy Commodot* 
Sdwford. It appeared by dwinMmctioiudelivered tothecaplain of tbcfHgate' 
who coDTi^ed tUese vessels, tliat in case the Alps of any nation should pretend (o 
the right of search, he was to discover the power to which he belonged by hoisting 
bis colours and firing a uluCe ; dnd in the event of violence, to resist force bj 
tbrtt. He, however, only obeyed the former part of his orders, and wai con- 
ducted with the ships under his protection to Margate Roads, inconsequence of a 
special order from the Lords of the Admiralty. After the intervention of sooM 
delay, the vessels bound for Portugal were permitted to repair thilber ; and Sfr 
William Scott (Lord Stowell) at length decided in the case of the Maria, the con- 
demnation of which vessel and her cargo was followed by that of the remainder of. 
&e convoy. — The judge asserted upon this occasion; — Brst, that the right of 
tisling and searching merdiantmen upon (be high leaa, whataver be the ship*, 
caTgoes, or deBtinatlon, was an inconteslible ri^t of the lawfuUy-commiiuoned 
cruiiers of a belligerent nation; secondly, Ibel the authority of the sovereign of 
tbi aeiitral country being interposed in aiiy manner of mere force could not 
l^ally my the right of a iawfuDy-comniissioiied belligerent cruiier | and thinlly, 
that the penalty for the contravention of that right was the confiscation of the 
"-TOpetty so withheld ttont visitation and search. 



stntagem tbey had boda been captured. Drainark loudly 
enumerated her grievances. She asserted that a number of 
her vesseb had been seized on die most fi'ivcdous pretexts, 
and even carried into tlie ports of Great Britain, althoti^ no 
speaes of contraband property whatsoever had been found <Ht 
board. It was stated, at the same time, that the captain (^ 
one (rf her fti^tes had been detained and treated with hersh' 
ness.* An event occurred soon after that occasioned much 

*This«U<ldMlbtbecaMof HisDMiIshM^feMj'fifiigitetlie Haurenu. Some 
Engli^ meii'of-war bating fallen ia wilh thi> Tcsel and her conTO]', in Decern, 
ber, 1799, the commandpT of one of tbnn demanded her dratioatioD, andonleanu 
ing tbat sbe HU bouDil fiiT Gibraltar, Tef)lW, tbat if th* captain WM going tyther 
be wauM not Tisit Ibe codtd; ; but, that in case it should not cast anchor in that 
port, Ibe ceremon; would assuredly take place. Caplain Van Dockuni having 
infiinmd tiie officer who came on bomd, Iliat he would resist ■ seardi, a signal 
>raa made ta emnine the fleet immediatelf, and a boat from the Emei^d pre- 
pared to eiecuto the (Riler, on which some musquetry was fired from the Dane, 
and doe of the English sailors was severelj wounded. A boat belonging to At 
fliva WBi Bt tlie same time tailed and detained until a thrert of relijinian ted 
been betd ouL Oa thrar arriTal in the baj' of Gibraltar, Lord Eeith demanded 
to inspect Captain Van Dockura's iustrucdons, but the latter refused to comply, 
nbsn-ring, that he was commanded loprohibit tlie risitation of hiacanK^, aaidtbal 
be onljobefed Ida cnrdert bf firing on liie boats of the English squadron. Having 
afterwards pledged hia honour to this in presence of the admiral, and the govennr 
of the garrison, and promised to surrender himself before a judge, be was per- 
mitted to return on boafd, buton entering his boat be tiansmiUeda leoer in whidt 
he refused to comply. On this. Lord Keith sUled. that if be attempted to willi- 
draw hilnself from justice, the aSair would he represented to bia court. Mr. 
Merr;, the minister of Great Britain at Copenhagen, acoonfiiq^ presented ■ 
note on tlus sntiject to Connt Benutoiff, dated April 10, 1800, in Wbicft hs 
insisted od the right of risiting and examining merchant-vessels on the Ugh seas, 
^thalever their nation might be, and whatever thvir cargoes or desdnalions. Re 
also Mated, that His Bntonnic M^es^ had nadoubtt^the dis{deasore which Ua 
Danish Majest; would feel on leatiiii^ the nolentaiid indefenable jlrocedure of 
an officer in his service ; and that Iha King was persuaded of the promptttuda 
with wfaidi his Danish Majesty would make to his (Britannic) Majesty the formal 
disavowal and apology wfaicbbehadso jastaiigbtioeipect frooihimiDaecai^ 
-with a reparation ph;|)ortionable to tlje nature of the offbace commiHed. It 
appears, however, that neither apology nor reparation was made upon the occa- 
aion. On the oontrmy, Coilnl BemsurS', in his reply, asserted that none of the 
maritime add imtepeDdeat powers of Europe bod eva' acknowledged the light of 
searching neutral ships when escorted either b; one or several ships of war. He 
added, that the captain of Hia Danish Majesty's frigate, by repelling a violence 
which he bad no reason to eipect, had done no more than his dutf ; and that it 
wU on the port of the English frigates that the violation of the rights of a neuinl 
tovereigaty, and of a power friendlyto His Britannic Majesty, had been com- 

H 4 



{>eipIexiQr, aiid was productive of the moEt disagreeable coiH 
tequences. Although the armed vessels of the two northern 
powers had protested against a search, and one of them bad 
actually recurred to small arms, yet nothing in the sh^>e of a 
regular engagement had hitherto taken place. This, however^ 
at length occarred. The captain of a Danish frigstt^ called 
the Freya, having refiised to permit the vessels under his 
protection to be examined by an Englifih gquadron at the 
mouth of the channel, although he freely offered to exhibit 
all dieir papers hr inspection, an acdon immediately ensued, 
and after having two men killed and five wounded, the Dane 
struck his colours, and was carried into the Downs. France 
also was at that time exerting a giant's might. Unawed by the 
formidable combination against her, she bad combated a world 
in arms; and it began to be dreaded, even by men who were 
not unfriendly to her first efforts in behalf of domestic free- 
dom, that a power was about to be created that would one 
day aspire to the domination of Europe. In the mean time, 
her rulers were unceasingly agitating the courts of the Baltic; 
and, under pretence of establishing a &ee trade, were evidently 
wishing to clip the wings of that commerce which had enabled 
a conqwTOtively small country to contend successfully for ages 
with extensive territories and a numerous population. The 
trade which the States situated on the shores of the Baltic 
carried on with England, was certainly highly profitable to 
themselves ; but it was absolutely necessary to the existence 
of thb country as a maritime nation. The enmity of those 
States, therefore, was to be dreaded, and their friendship 
courted. But, above all things, it was to be feared lest any 
umbrage should be given to a capricious prince, who affected 
to possess all the magnanimity without exhibiting any of the 
solid talents of his mother; and who began to consider him- 
self as the protector of the north of Europe. The American 
war had given birth to an " armed neutrality," formidable in 
the extreme, which had been suspended mther than dissolved g 
and which might at any time be brought into action with in- 
creased vigour. A powerftil monarch at its head would 



render Guch a league doubly portentous; and although we 
might at lengtb prove conquerors, yet, (luring the struggle, 
our dock-yards and arsenals must be in want of naval and 
mihtary stores, while a large body of our merchants must be 
deeply injured, if not wholly ruined. 

In this posture of public affairs, it was resolved in the 
British cabinet, to select a diplomatist equally eminent for bis 
talents and for his moderation ; and accordingly. Lord Whit- 
worth was nominated for the purpose. Having made the ne- 
cessary dispositions pith all possible promptitude, he repaired 
to Copenhagen in the character of plenipotentiary extraordi- 
nary ; Mr. Merry, our resident minister, remaining, as usual, 
to discharge the customary official business of his department. 
While his lordship commenced a treaty with the Count de 
Bemstorff, a nobleman of great talents and influence, his mis- 
sion was backed, and his argumenu were supported, by a 
sUXHig squadron, consisting of nine seuI of the line, four 
bomb-ketches, and live gun-^oats, which entered the Sound 
under the command of Admiral Dickson. Such guests were 
not to be slighted ; and the Prince Royal, who had for some 
years taken upon himself the management of public affairs, 
immediately signified his wishes, in the form of an invitation, 
that they should anchor in Elsineur Roads. The court of 
Denmark, however, being at that period assured of support 
from the neighbouring states, her ministers held a high lan- 
guage, and considering England as the aggressor, affected ra- 
ther to demand than to yield submission. But, after a consi- 
derable time spent in discussion, at length, by the exertions of 
our plenipotentiary, an adjustment took place on the 29th Au- 
gust, 1800. As the Danish government stood greatly on the 
point of honor, and repeatedly and earnestly urged the disgrace 
offered to its flag, something on that score was very properly 
conceded. It was agreed that the frigate with the convoy should 
be released; and the former repaired in one of the ports of 
His Britannic Majesty ; according to the usage among friendly 
and allied powers. The claim of visiting merchantmen 
while under convoy of a ship war, presenting greater diffi- 



culties, was referred to the investigation of s more leisure 
period ; but tlie court of Copenhageo was to restrict itself 
Bud was to send armed vessels for that purpose only, into the 
Mediterranean, where they appeared to be in some measure 
necessary on account of the depredations of the Barbary 
corsairs, who at that time infested the commerce of Den- 
mark, and treated her consuls with disrespect. Such were 
the outlines of the convention. An entire change was also 
effected in the court of St. Petersburgh. Tlie Emperor had 
actually laid an embargo on all the English ships and pro- 
perty within his dominions, under tlie pretext that the cap- 
ture of the Freya was r manifest violation of the law of 
nations ; but no sooner did he learn the signature of the 
convention of Copenhagen, than he withdrew the orders for 
sequestration, and rigstored whatever had been seized. 

No blame is imputable to Lord Wbitworth because en 
amicable treaty did not immediately follow this temporary 
convention. It is well known, that a few months after the 
English plenipotentiary quitted Ck>penhagen, a convention 
was concluded for a new armed neutrality, in wliich Prussia, 
Sweden, and Denmark joined, under the sanction of His 
Imperial Majesty. One of those powers seized on Ham- 
burgh, another on Hanover, and a third wished to avenge 
the loss of the grand-mastership of Malta by a declaration 
in behalf of France. These proceedings gave birth to a new 
expedition of eighteen soil of the line up the Baltic; and 
every subject in dispute was finally terminated by the battle 
of Copenhagen, the secession of the Swedes, the sudden 
d^th of Paul, and the armistice agreed to between the Prince 
of Denmark and Lord Nelson, on the 9th April, 1601. 

On his return to England, l^rd Whitworth found some 
relaxation necessary after the hurry of two kitig joumies, 
and the labour atid fatigue incident to a tedious ead intricate 
negociation. He also contrived to twine the roses of Venus 
around the Caduceus of Mercury, by an union peculiarly 
auspicious in eyery point of view. This marriage took 
place, April 7th, 1801, with Arabella Diana, widow of John 



fVederick, third Duke of Dorset, and eldest daughter and 
cohrar of Sir Oiarles Cope, second beronet of Brewent, 
county of Oxford, by Catharine, youngest daughter of Sir 
Cecil Bishop, fifth Baronet of Parbam, Sussex (and after- 
wards second wife of the first Earl of Ltrerpool). 

In the mean time new and unforeseen occurrences had 
taken place. By a sudden change at home, Mr. I^tt had 
been divested of the management of public afiairs, while Mr. 
Aldington exchanged the Speaker's chair for a less easy seat 
on tlie Treasury bench. France loudly threatened us with 
all the terrors of an invasion ; and our fleets, on the other 
hand, scoured the narrow seas, intercepted her shipping, 
and blockaded her harbours. Notwithstanding these marked' 
appearances of a violent and lasting animosity, a negociation, 
which had been for some time depending, was accelerated at 
this critical period with all the subtilty of diplomatic refine- 
ment. TTie inhabiwnts of both Great Britain and France 
had become heartily tSred of a war long since devoid of any 
' fixed or national object. After so many splendid acquisitions 
on the continent, Buonaparte evidently panted for a peace, 
which, by restoring the islands of the West Indian Archipe- 
lago to the French republic might confer reputation and 
stability on his administration; while in England the new 
ministry were anxious to strengthen the patronage of the 
Crown by menus of the gratitude of the people. For some 
time past an active intercourse had taken place between the 
two governments ; flags of truce and defiance were actu- 
ally displayed at the same time, and in the same strait; 
so that while Boulogne and Dunkirk were bombarded and 
blockaded by hostile squadrons, the ports of Dover and 
Calus were frequently visited by the packet-boats and the 
messengers of the courts of St. James's and the Thuilleries. 
At length Lord Hawkesbury, the Secretary for Foreign Af- 
fairs, after a long but secret negociation with M. Otto, during 
which the humiliating intervention of a third person was not 
recurred to, as on a former occasion. Suddenly announced 
the signature of preliminaries of peace between England on 



the one part, and France, Spain, and Holland, on the other< 
After the lapse of nearly six months, during which the public 
expectation was greatly excited by alternate hopes and fears, 
the long-expected treaty was signed, ratified, and pruniul' 
gated according to the established forms. 

'Hie treaty of Amiens, concluded March 27| 1802, was 
considered by some politicians rather as a cessation of hos- 
tilities than as a definitive pacification ; and the event proved 
that too many objects of importance were left open for 
fiiture dificussion. Lord Comwallis, notwithstanding this, 
returned from the congress welcraned by the well-merited ap- 
plause of his countrymen. He was succeeded first by Mr. 
Jackson, then by Mr. Merry, and finally by Lord Whitworth ; 
who, having been made a privy-councillor, was sent to 
Paris towards the latter end of 1802, as ambassador extra- 
ordinary and plenipotentiary. On his lordship's arrival at 
Paris he found himself, like his predecessors, surroimded by 
dtfficuldes. The war had indeed ceased, but the hostility of 
the mind was not yet ended. A rivalship in commerce had 
succeeded to a rivalship in arms, and the custom-houses of 
the respective nations were in a state of direct hostility. A 
variety of circumstances tended to render this n^odation 
delicate in the extreme j such as the renunciation of Parma ; 
the mission of Sebastiani; the occupation of Holland by a 
considerable army ; the violation of the rights of the Swiss 
Cantons ; and, above all, the aggrandizement of France by 
means of fresh acquisitions. These, wid a variety of other 
objects of equal importance, seemed to embitter this embassy, 
and to render it disagreeable to all engaged in it. On the 
other hand, the First Consul complained of the personaUties 
with which the newspapers in London were filled, particu- 
larly one published in French by the emigrant de Peltier ; of 
the countenance given to the ex-bishops and refugees, espe- 
cially Georges, afterwards executed at Paris ; of the book 
published by Sir Robert Wilson ; and of a variety pf other real 
or supposed iifjuries. But it was the retention of Malta that 



appears to have been the chief object of dispute, and the 
ostensible cause of the war that ensued. 

After a number of previous conferences with Talleyrand, the 
minister for foreign aj&irs, Buonaparte at length sent for the 
English ambassador, in the beginning of 1803, and a long 
and important interview took place ; of which an account will 
be found in the following dispatch, which was immediately 
addressed by Lord WhJtworth to Lord Hawkesbury. 

" My Lord, Paris, February 21, 1803. 

" My last dispatch, in which I gave your lordship an ac- 
count of my conference with M. de Talleyrand, was scarcely 
gone when I received a note from him, informing me that the 
first Consul wished to converse with me, and desired I would 
«ome to him at the Thuilleries at nine o'clock. He received 
me in bis cabinet with tolerable cordiality, and, afler talking 
oa different subjects for a few minutes, he desired me to sit 
down, as he himself did on the other side of the table, and 
h^an. He told me that he felt it necessary, after what had 
passed between me and M. de Talleyrand, that he should, in 
the most clear and authentic manner, make known his senti- 
ments to me, in order to their being communicated to His 
Majesty; and he conceived this would be more eETectually 
done by himself than through any medium whatever. He 
-Siud, that it was a matter of infinite disappointment to him, 
that the treaty of Amiens, instead of being followed by con- 
ciliation and friendship, the natural effects of peace, had been 
productive only of continual and increasing jealousy and mis- 
trust; and that this mistrust was now avowed in such a 
manner as must bring the point to an issue. 

*' He now enumerated the several provocations which he 
pretended to have retieived from England. He placed in the 
first line our not evacuating Malta and Alexandria, as we 
were bound to do by trea^. In this, he said,, that no 
consideration on earth should make him acquiesce; ant^ of 
the two, he had rather see us in possession of the Fauxbourg 
St Antoine, than Malta. He then adverted to the abuse 


110 pORD WHITWoi^H. 

thrown out against him in the EngUsh public prints; but tbii^ 
he said, he did not so much regard as that which appeared in 
the French papers published in LondcHi. Thb be considered 
as much more mischievous, since it was meant to excite this 
-country against him and his government; be complained of 
the protection g^ven to Georges and others of his deseriptUm^ 
who, iastead of being sent to Canada^ as bad been repeatedly 
promised, were permitted to remain in England, handsomely 
pensioned, and constantly committing all sorts of crimes on 
the coasts of France, as well as in the interior. In confirm- 
ation of this he told me, thst two men had withm these few 
days been apprehended in Normandy, uid were now on their 
way to Paris, who were hired assassins, and employed by the 
Bishop of Arras, by the Baron de Rolle, by Creorges, and by 
Duthell, as would be fully proved in a court of justice, and 
made known to the world. 

" He acknowledged that the irritation he felt agunst Eng- 
land increased daily, because every wind (I make use as much 
as I can of his own ideas and eiqiressions,) which blew from 
England, brought nothmg but enmity and hatred against 

" He now went back to Egypt, and told me that if he had 
felt the smallest inclinatbn to take possession of it by force, 
he mi^t have done it a month ago, by sending twenty-five 
thousand men to Aboukir, who would have possessed them- 
selves of the whole country m defiance of the four thousand 
British in Alexandiia- That instead c^ that garrison being a 
means of protecting Egypt* it was only ftimishing him with a 
pretence for invading it. ' This he should not do, whatever 
might be his desire to have it as a colony, because be did nqt 
think it worth the risk of a war, in which he might, po-haps, 
be considered as the aggressor, and by which be should lose 
more than he could gain, since sooner or later Egypt would 
belcmg to France, either by the blUng to pieces of the Turidsh 
Empire, or by some arrangement with the Porte.' As a proof 
.of his desire to maihbun peace, he wished to know what he 
had to gain by going to war with England. A deowat wss 



tbe only means of c^nce he had, and that he was determined 
to atten^ti by putting himselF at the Iiead of the expedition. 
But bow cooid it be supposed, that after having gained the 
height on which he stood, lie would ri3k his life and reputa- 
tuNi in such a hazardous attempt, unless forced to it by neces- 
sity, whea the chances were, that he and the greatest part of 
tbo expedition would go to the bottom of the sea ? He talked 
much (HI this subject, but never affected to diminish the 
danger. He acknowledged that there were one hundred 
^isniies to one against faim ; but still he was determined to 
attempt it, if war should be the consequence of the present 
discuRsion ; end that such was the disposition of the troops, 
that anny after army would be found for the enterprize, 

'* He then expatiated much on (he natural force of the two 
countries. France with an army of Sjut hundred and eighty 
thousand men, for to this amount jt is, he said, to be imme- 
diately completed, all ready for the most desperate enter- 
pri^ef ; aod England with a fleet that tnade her mistress of 
the seas, and which he did not think he should be able to 
equal in less than ten years : two such countries, by a [)roper 
under^tandtPgi might govern the world, but by their strifes 
might overturn it. He said, that if he bad not felt the enmity 
pf the British government <hi every occasion since the treaty 
of Amiens, there would have been nothing that he would not 
have done to prove his desire to conciliate; participation in 
indemnities as well as an influence on the continent ; treaties 
of commerce,-^ in short, any thing that could have giv^i satis- 
&ction, and have testified his friendship. Nothing, however, 
iukd been able to conquer the hatred of the British govern- 
menlv and, therefore, it was now come to tlie point, whether 
vfe should have peace or war. To preserve peace, the treaty 
of AiRic;n3 must be fulfilled ; the abuse in the public prints, if 
not totally suppressed, at least kept whhin bounds, and ootb- 
fleed to th^ £n^iflh papers; and the protection so evenly 
^ven to his bitterest enemies (alluding tD Geoiges, and per- 
iVIs of thft description,} must be withdrawn. If war, it was 
ffflly necfissary to say Wy and to refuse to fiilfil Uie tr^Uy. 



He now made the tour of Europe, to prove to me that, in 
its present stat^ there was no power with which we could 
coalesce for the purpose of making war c^aiast France ; con- 
sequently it was our interest to gain time, and if we had any 
point to gain, renew the war when circumstances were more 
fevourable. He said, it was not doing him justice to suppose 
that he conceived himself above the opinion of his country, 
or of Europe. He would not risk uniting Europe against 
him by any violent act of aggression; neither was he so 
powerful in Fruice as to persuade the nation to go to war 
unless on good grounds. He said, that he had not chastised 
the Algerines from his unwillingness to excite the jealousy of 
other powers, but he hoped that England, Russia, and 
France, would one day feel that it was their interest to destroy 
such a nest of thieves, and force them to live rather by culti- * 
vating their land than by plunder. 

** In the little I siud to him, for he gave me in the course of 
two hours but very few opportunities of saying a word, I con- 
fined myself strictly to the twior of your lordship's instruc- 
tions.' I urged them in the same manner as I had done to 
M. de Talleyrand, and dwelt as strongly as I could on the 
sensation which the publication of Sebastiani's report had 
created in England, where the views of France towards 
I^ypt must always command the utmost vigilance and jea- 
lousy. He maintained, that what ought to convince us of 
his desire of peace, was, on the one hand, the little he had to 
gain by renewing the war; and, on the other, the &ciUty with 
which he might have taken possession of Egypt, with the very 
ships and troops which were now going from the MedHer- 
ranean to St. Domingo, and that with the approbation of all 
Eurc^, and more particularly of the Turks, who had repeat- 
edly invited him to join with them for the purpose of forcing 
us to evacuate their territory. 

*' I do not pretend to follow the arguments of the First 
Consul in detail; this would be impossible, from the vast 
varie^ of matter which he took occasicm to introdace. Kb 
purpose was evidently, to convince me, that on Maha must 



depend peace or war, and at the same time, to impress upon 
my mind a strong idea of the means he possessed of annoying 
us at home and abroad. 

" With regard to the mistrust and jealousy which, he satd^ 
constantly prevailed since the conclusion of the tres^ of 
Amiens, I observed, that after a war of such long duration, 
so fiill of rancour, and carried on in a manner of which his- 
tory has no example, it was but natural that a consideraUe 
degree of agitation should prev^ ; but this, like the swell 
after a storm, would gradually subside, if not kept up by the 
policy of either party ; that I would not pretend to pronounce 
which bad been the aggressor in the paper war of which he 
complained, and which was still kept up, though with this 
difference, that in England it was independent of govern- 
ment, and in France its very act and deed. To this I 
added, that it must be admitted, that we had such motives 
of mistrust against France as could not be alleged against 
us ; and I was going to instance the accession of territory 
and influence gained by France since the treaty, when be 
interrupted me by saying, I suppose you mean Piedmont 
and Switzerland ; * ce sont des bagatelles :"' and it must have 
been foreseen whilst the negociation was pending; ' vous 
n'avez pas le droit d'en parler A cette lieure.' I then alleged 
as a cause of mistrust and jealousy, the impossibility of ob- 
taining justice, or any kind of redress, for any of His Ma- 
jesty's subjects. He asked me in what respect : and I told 
liim, that since the signing of the treaty not one British 
clfumant had been satisfied, although every Frenchman of 
diat description had been so nithin one month after that 
period; and that since I had been here, and I could say 
as much of my predecessors, not cme satisfactory answer 
hod been obtfuned to the innumerable representations which 
we had been under the neccessity of making in favour of 
British subjects and propei^y detained in the several ports 
of France and elsewhere, without even a shadow of justice : 
such an order of things, I said, was not made to inspire con- 
fidence ; but, on the contrary, must create mistrust. This* 

VOL. X. 1 - 


114 LWta WHITWtmTH. 

bi« s^id) iBHCt be attributed to the natural dUEcultiee aUisadr 
iag such suits, when both parties tliought themselves right; 
but he deqied that such delays could proceed from any dis- 
ibfiltna^on to do what was just and right. With regard to 
tlte p^sioBS which weie granted to French or Swiss isdivi- 
^A]s, I obserred, that they were givCD as a reward for 
paat Services durisg the war, and most certainly not for pre- 
sent oties ; and still less for such as had been insinuated, oi a 
nature repliant to tiie feelings of every individual in Eng- 
land, and to the universally acknowledged oyalty and honour 
of the ]^t!sb government. That as for any participation of 
indemnities or other accessions, which Hi& Majesty tuight 
have obtained, I could take upon myself to assure him, that 
His Majesty's ambition led him rather to preserve than to ac- 
quu'e> And that, with regard to the most propitious moment 
for renewing hoEtilities, His Mc^esty, whose sincere desire 
it was to continue the blessings of peace to his subjects, 
would always consider sudi a measure as tlie greatest cala- 
iHity ; but that, if His Majesty was so desirous of peace, it 
nuist not be imputed to the difficulty of obtaining allies; aad 
the less so, as thsse means which it might be necessary to 
afford such allies, for perhaps inadequate services, would all be 
ewKSntrated in England) and ^ve a proportionate increase 
of energy to our own exertions. 

" At this part of the conversation he rose irom his chair, 
and told me that he should give orders to General Andreossy 
to enter on the discussion of this business with your lordship ; 
but he wished that I should, at the same time, be made 
acquainted with his motives, and convinced of his sincerity, 
r^her fi-om himself than from his ministers. He then, after 
ft conversation <^ two hours, during the greatest part of which 
he talked incessantly, conversed for a few moments on indif- 
ftrent subjects, in apparent good humour, and retired. 

" Sach was nearly as I can Fecollect, the purport of this 

" It muBI, however, be observed, ^at he did not, as M. 
TaUeyrand had doae^ affect to attribute Colonel Sebastiaoi's 



musion to commercial motives only, but as one rendered 
necessarj in a military point of view, by the infraction bj n* 
of the treaty of Amiens. 

" I have the honour to be, Slc 
" WhitwobTh." 

" F. S. Tl]b conversation took place on Friday last, and 
tJiis morning I saw M. de Talleyrand. He had been with the 
First Consul after 1 1^ him, and he assured me that be had 
been very well satisfied with the frankness with which I had 
made niy observations on what fell from him. I told him, 
that without entering into any farther detail, what I had said 
to the First Consul amounted to an assurance, of what I 
trusted there could be no doubt, — ' of the readiness of His 
Majesty's ministers to remove idl subjects of discussion, where 
that could be done without violating the laws of the country, 
and to fulfil strictly the engagements which they had coni 
tr&cted, inasmuch as that could be recMiciled with the safely 
of tlie state. As this applied to Malta and ^ypt, he gave 
me to understand that a project was in contemplation, by 
which the int^;rity of tbe Turkish empire would be so eflecti^ 
ally secured as to do away every cause of doubt or uneasiness, 
either with regard to Egypt or any part of the Turkish do* 
minions. He could not dien, lie said, explain himself &rth en 
Under these circumstances, no one can expect that we should 
rebnqnish that assurance that we have in hand, till someUiing 
equally satisfactory is proptwed and adopted 

" Whitwohth. 
*' The Right HtHiourabte Lord Ha^rfcesbury, &&" 

Hie English ministry, however, persisted in the resoludon 
of not evacuating Malta, although a categorical answer was, 
is the mean time, demanded by General Andr(k)ssy, the 
French amlMssador at London. On this, a rupture appearing 
lo be inevitable. His Majesty, in March, 1803, sent a message to 
bolb bouses of parliament, stating the pr^racations making in 



the ports of France and Ht^and, and recommending the 
adoption of such measures as might be consbtent with the- 
honour of his crown and the security of his dominions. A 
subsequent interview between Lord Whitwortb and Buona- 
parte, instead of healing, appears to have widened the breach ; 
and His Lordship's prompt and dignified repression of tlie 
usurper's intemperate address before a full court, and all the 
foreign ministers, is celebrated throughout Europe. The 
particulars will be found in the following dispatch : — 

« My Lord, Paris,-March 14. 180S. 

" The messenger, Mason, went on Saturday with ray dis- 
patches of that date ; and until yesterday, Sunday, I saw no 
one likely to give me any further information, such as I 
could depend upon, as to the effect which His Majesty's 
message had produced on the First Consul. At the court 
which was held at the Thuilleries upon that day, he accosted 
me evidently under very considerable agitation. He began by 
asking me if I had any news from England ? I told him that 
,1 had received letters from Your Lordship two days ago. 
He immediately said, * And so you are determined to go to 
war?" ' No (I rephed), we are too sensible of the advantages 
of peace.' ' Nous avons (said he) d^jd lalt la guerre pendan^ 
quinze ans.' As he deemed to wait for an answer, I observed 
only, ' Cen est d^ja trt^.' ' Mais (said he) vous voulez la 
Cure encore quinze anuses, et vous m'y forcez.' I told him 
that was very far from His Majesty's intention. He then 
proceeded to Count Marcow, and the Chevalier Azara, who 
were standing together at a little distance from me, and said 
to them, ' Les Anglois veulent la guerre, mais s'ils sont les 
premiers ^ tirer I'ep^e, je serai le dernier a la remettre. lis 
' ne respectent pas les trait^s. II laut dor^avant les couvrir de 
cr£pe noir.' He then went his round. In a few minutes he 
came back to me, and resumed the conversation, if such it 
can be called, by something personally civil to me. He began 
again : — ' Pourquoi des arm^mens ? contre qui des mesures 



de precaution ? Je n'at pas un seul vaisseau de ligne dans les 
porta de France ; mais si vous voulez armeT) jWmerai aussi i 
si Tous Toulez vous battre, je me battnunussL Vous pourrex 
peatfitre tuer la France, mais jamais I'intimider.' * On ne 
roudroit (said I), ni I'un ni I'autre. On voudroit vivre en 
bonne intelligence avec elle>' ' II &ut done respecter les 
trait^s (replied he); malheur a ceux qui ne rcspectent pas let 
trait^s ; lis en seront responsable a toute I'Europe.' He was 
too much agitated to make it advisable for me to prolong tht 
conversation ; I therefore made no answer, and he retired to 
his apartment repeating the last phrase. 

*' It is to be remarked, that all this passed loud enough to 
be overheard by two hundred pet^le who were present ; and 
I am persuaded that there was not a single person who did 
not ^1 the extreme impropriety of his conduct, uid the total 
want of dignity, as well as of decency, on the occasion. 

" I propose taking the first opportunity of speaking to 
M. Talleyrand on this subject. 

" I have the honour to be, &c. 

*' Whitwort*. 
" TTie Right Honourable Lord Hawkesbury, &c." 

Lord Whitworth, on his first interview with M. Talley- 
rand, remonstrated against the insult offered to him, as alike 
ofiensive '' to his public and private feelings." He added, 
that he had repaired to the levee " to pay his respects to the 
First Consul, and present his countrymen, but not to treat of 
political subjects ; and that unless he had an assurance from 
him that he should not be exposed to a repetition of the satse 
disagreeable occurrences, he should be under the necessity of 
discontinuing his visits to the Thuilleries." Similar remon- 
strances were also made in the King's name, by order of the 
Secretary of State for Foreign ASairs ; but Malta again be- 
came the bone of contention, and projets innumerable were 
' Formed, presented, and debated, relative to the possession of 
'- that important island. At length the English minister, in con- 
I 3 



Kqueoce of positive orders from his Court, d^tvereil in Iu9 
nllimatiatt;* and declared, that if no convention on this basis 
wsE signed within a week, he had received instructioos to ter- 
minate his mission, and return to London. As the Court of 
^e Thuilleries would not accede to this, it was proposed by 
Talleyrand) as a mezzo temuno, to relinquish Malta to Hussia ; 
but difficulties occurred in respect to this plan, and Lord 
Whitworth demanded the necessery passports for bis de- 
parture. These were at length obtained, although not with- 
out great difficulty, and after three successive messages; on 
which His Lordship left Paris, Hay 13. 1803. From this 
iHoiiient every idea of peace vanished ; and in the course of 
three days an order of council was issued for reprisals, which, 
of course, produced a new war. 

Thus the embassy of Lord Whitworth was suddenly ter- 
minated ; and whoever considers the peremptory instructions 
from his Court on the one hand, and the resolute determination 
of the First Consul on the other, will allow that the ablest 
negociator could not have prolonged the armed truce (for it 
does not deserve the name of s peace), which had subsisted 
between the two countries from March 27. 1S02, when the 

* " I. "Sin Piendi OoTenunmt Bhalt eognge to make na opposidoa (o the 
t«»won of the Island of Lampedoaa to His Msjosty bj the King of the Two 

" 2. Ill- consequence of the present state of the Island of I^mnpedosa, Hia 
H^est^r itiall i^main in possession of the Island of Idalta until such alraiige- 
Inents shall be made by him as maf enable His Majesty to occupy Lainpeilosa a* 
a naval slalion ; after nhich period tlie Island of Malta shall be given up to ibe 
lahebitanlsi and acknonledged as an independent stale. 

" 3. The lertitoriea of the Batavian republic ^iill be eracuatcd by the French 
forces within one month after the conclusion of a convention founded on the 
pinciplcE of Hasrpryet. 

<■ 4. The King of Etruriia, and the luUao and Ligurian lUpvblici, shall ha 
)fiknWfiidgeA by His Majesty. 

" 5. Swilzeiland shall be evacuated by the French forces. 

" 6. A, suitable territorial provision eball be assigned to tlie King of Sardinia 
in Italy. 

" SiCRET AnTiCLi, His Majesty shall not be required by the French Govern- 
ment to evacuate the Island of Maltauntil afler the eipiralion of ten years. 
' •■ Articlea 4, S, and 6, may be entirety omitted, or must all be inserted. 


iMtLiy wnivwoit'm. 1}$ 

tntty of Amiens was ^tgaed, to May 10. 1809, when a w- 
newal of hostilities ensued. 

After an interview with the cabinet ministers in London, 
Lord Whitworth repaired to Knowle, where for some years 
his ItMrdship chiefly resided, rendering himseH" ekc4fldingly 
poplar by his attention and politbness to aii desoripttoiu <ff 
persons. His native roiinty, in the course of tfae irar, fork 
niihed large bodies of volantoars and yemoanry, and he him- 
self was not wanting in his exertions to encourage ^i^ 
patriotic efforts. No sooner was the country menaced with a 
descent, than he raised and clothed, at his own expence, the 
Holmesdale battalion of in&ntry, composed of 60O men ; and 
he frequently repaired to their bead-quarters at Maidstone to 
inspect their condition. 

On March 2. 1813, Lord Whitworth was (nade a lord of 
the King's bed-chamber; on the 14th of June following he 
was created a peer of Great Britain, by the title of ^^count 
Whitworth, of Adbaston, in the county of Stdfe^d ; and in 
August succeeded the Duke of Richmtmd a» vieefoy of 
Ireland. At the enlargement of the Order of the Bath in 
January, 1815, he was made one of the twdve Civil Knights 
Grand Crosses ; and November 25. that year, was advanced 
to the dignities of Baron Adbaston and Earl WMtlrorth. He 
resigned the lieutenancy of Ireland in Septembei>, 1817, when 
Lord Talbot was appointed to succeed him. 

The noble Earl's decease took place at KnOt»f^ after only 
three days illness, on the ISth of May, 1825. 

His Lordship's loss is universally lamented by his neigh- 
bours, and especially by the poor, to whom he was a sincere, 
active, and judicious friend. It was his habit and delight to 
employ^ in occupations suited to their strength, poor old men 
and women about his house, garden, park, and farm. In this 
useful charity he spent some thousand pounds a year ; and the 
aid privately rendered to objects of compassion in other ways 
by the earl and his consort were extensive. He was aa 
amiable and kind-hearted man in all the relations of private 
I 4 



hie, and was c»nsidered l^ all who knew him, one of the best 
examples of an English nobleman. 

From the " PiiUic Characters," and the " History of the 
Wars of the French Revolution," the materials of the fore- 
going memoir have been principally derived. We have also 
looked at " The Gentleman's Magazine," and " The Monthly 


No. VI. 


1 HE profound erudition, inflexible; integrity, and imaf 
benevolence of the late Dr. Parr, were so universally acknow.' 
ledged, and so eminently venerated, that, whatever difference 
of opinion may existj with respect to the soundness of some 
of his opinions, he will ever rank highly among the many 
excellent and admirable persons who have in the present agd 
conferred honour upon their country, and reflected lustre 
upon letters. Of his scholastic attainments it becomes few 
to speak, for few can be fomid capable of appreciating their 
Tfdue, or of estimating their extent Equalled, perhaps, by 
some of his contemporaries in the art of verbal criticism, in 
rare and elegant classical knowledge he was unquestionably 
pre-eminent in the learned world. His vast and varied lite- 
rary resources were acquired, too, not in the ease and leisure 
of affluence, but under the pressure of haste and poverty ; 
in a situation subject to many mortifications, and wholly un- 
supported and uncheered by any advenUtious advantage or 

Dr. Samuel Parr was bom at Harrow, January 15.1 7i6-7i 
His great grandfiither was rector of Kirkby Malory, in Lei- 
cestershire, and his grand&ther was vicar of Hinckley, in the 
same county. His father, to use Dr. Parr's own words, in a 
letter to Dr. Percival, was " on apothecary and surgeon at Har- 
row, a man of a very robust and vigorous iotellect." The fa* 
mily (of which a pedigree is printed in Nichols's Leicestershire, 
iv, 725.), was of the highest respectability, and had produced 
many divines ; but was greatly reduced through persevering 
JacobiUsm, and Mr. Parr himself advanced nearly his whole 
property (SOO/.) in aid of the Pretender. The son, there- 



fore, was brought up a Tory ; bat Dr. Parr has said, that his 
father, by giving him Rapm to read when very young, first 
loosened bis earty political sentiments. He was considered 
a boy of very precocious talents, and had attained extraordi- 
nary grammatical knowledge of Latin at four years of age. 
Of his critical acumen he gave the first specimen at that early 
period of hts lifej oa an occautm when, bang called from 
his boyish play to the surgery, to compound medicines, he 
revengefully pointed oat to bis fether a Bus(«ke be had made 
in a genitive case in a Latin prescripUoHj wbich drew from 
the latter the animated correction o^ " Sam, d n the 
prescription, make the mixture." — There is another charao- 
teristit^ anecdote of Dr. Parr at that period of lus life, wliich 
he was himself in the habit of tellmg with great ^ec. The 
Use of laudaaum, then, we believe, called " Thebate tine- 
ture," was at that time rare among country [ffactitioners. Dr. 
Parr's ^her, like many other men of strong intellect* was 
somewhat of an experimentalist ; and he be^an caatiously to 
introduce this medicine into his prescriptions. One old lady 
among his patients was sulfering ftom some paiDfut complaint 
which he was at a loss how to palliate ar r^iave. Keturning 
from visiting her one mornitig, he sat down to enter a pre- 
scription in his day-book g in doing which he paused, and 
after some hesitation wrote, erased) and wrote again. The 
prescription was made up by his son, tmd the nest mra-ning 
Mr. Parr, after having seen his patient, came back in high, 
spirits. " Sam," said be, " you will live to tee this new me- 
dicine work wonders." — " Indeed, Sir."— *' Yes, my boy ; 
I ventured yesterday to increase the dose from ten drops Ui 

fifteen ; and Mrs. has passed a more comfortable night 

than she has known for the last two raontlis ; and I thmk I 
shall venture fifteen dr<^ again." — " Yoti may do that. Sir, 
safely." — " Don't be rash, boy. Bc^nners are always too 
bold. How should you know what is safe?"—" Because, 
Sir, when I made up the prescripticn, I doubled the dosa 
you ordered." — " Deubled the dose f. you dog, bow daff»d 
you do that? " — " Bwause, Sir, I taw you heskMc." 

I , . u Google 


Wlien between nine and ten years old, be lost a tender mo- 
ther, for whom he ever felt and avowed a strong affectkoi ; 
and on his father manning again before the expiration of 
twelve months, the son refuaed to exchange his mourning 
weeds for the new coat with lappets, ordered ibr him on 
occasion of the new wedding. 

At Easter, 1756, young Parr was admitted on the foundatbn 
of Harrow School, where he became head boy in January* 
1761, at the early age of fourteen; at that time particularly 
attracting the notice of the head-master, X)r. Sumner. Here 
he was contemporary with Mr. Halhed, Sir William Jones, 
and I>r. Bennett, late Bishop of Cloyne ; with the two latter* 
of whom he devised a political play. With those personages 
his friendahip was ardent and constant through life. Tlie 
elite of the schocd were accustomed to perform voluntary exer- 
cises ; and an interesting detail is given in Lord Teignmouth's 
Memojjrs of Sir William Jones, of their manly games and 
principles. The first literary attempt of Dr. Parr was re^ 
ported l^ himself to have heeu a drama founded on the 
Book of Kuth ; and possibly, had he been born in Milton's 
age, he would have been a poet. It is to be regretted that 
all the youthful exercises of this singular republic of boys 
were subsequently stolen and taken to Holland. Sermons 
are in existence, written by I>r. Parr, at the early age of 

Soon after the above-mentioned date, Dr. Parr left school^ 
his father wishing to educate him in his own proiessioo, and 
" for two or three years," says he, " I attended to his busi-" 
ness." He had a most yenrning desire to obtain the advim-' 
tages of academic education and honours, but his step-mother 
was opposed to the exf^nce, and influenced his father to mak«j 
the condition of his going to the Universi^, his entry as ft 
aiiar. This was what his independent spirit coul^ not brooh 
^er quitting his sohool-fellows as an equal. His lather gavti 
him a month to determine whether he would accept the pro& 
tered termst or rehnqubb college altt^ther; he chose the 
ktter altemalive; but parental pride subsequently advanced 


a small sum, Which, on hb entry at Emuiuet College, Com' 
bridge, in 1765, young Parr confided to the treasurershtp of 
hb old friend and school-fellow, the late Bishop Bennetts 
Hb pecuniary necessities, however, soon became jpre^sin^ 
and he determined to leave the University rather than to 
borrow. On balancing his accounts, he found, to his extreme 
surprise, that he had 3/. 17j. over and above the full payment 
of his debts ; and such had been the economy of his expence^ 
that, he said, had he previously known of any such sum^ he 
should have remained longer ! In one of his printed sermons 
he pathetically laments hb inability to continue where his 
talents and acquirements seemed to promise him the highest 
distinction and worldly success. 

Dr. Sumner soon recalled him to Harrow, where he was ap- 
pointed first assistant in January, 1 767 ; and, during Dr. Sum* 
ner's life, he met with the most Battering personal attachment 
from that dbtinguished scholar, who, after the school bed- 
time, was accustomed to send for Parr into his private study, 
where their literary and theological discussions, in a great 
degree, formed and confirmed those principles which after- 
wards governed his whole life. These conversations would 
occasionally take place in the earlier part of the day; and it 
would firequenlly happen, that after Dr. Sumner and Dr. Parr 
had been carrying on some fierce altercadon on critical sub- 
jects, or perhaps unbending their minds with lighter topics, 
they would go from the head-master's house up to the school, 
and bow to each other, on taking their seats, with all the 
formality and ceremoniousness, which at that period was ob- 
served between the head of Harrow and hb assbtants. 

At Cbrbtmas, 1769, Dr. Parr was ord^ed on the curacies 
of Wilsdon and Kingsbury, Middlesex, which he resigned at 
Easter, 1770. In 1771, he was created M.A. per literaa 
Regias, and in the same year, on the death of Dr. Sumner, h« 
became a candidate for the head-mastership of Harrow, with 
the late master's strong recommendation. Although sanguine 
hopes were entertamed by his fnends of his success, fab 
Touth and other influence prevailed against his nominatioiif 


to tiie great disappointment of the scholars, by whom he was 
sincerely beloved. The elecUon fell upon Dr. Heath. 

It is well known, that the dissatisfkction of the school was 
manifest^ in Dr. Parr's favom- in some oyert acts of insub- 
ordination, which he was unjustly accused of having fomented. 
The most violent clamours were raised against him, and cir- 
culated in the public papers. Ultimately he resigned the 
place of assistant, and established a private academy at Stan- 
more, with forty-five boys, of whom, all but one followed him 
from Harrow. It then became desirable, and even necessary, 
that he should be married : he, therefore, allied himself to 
Jane, daughter of Zacharlah Marsengale, Esq., of Carleton, 
Yorkshire, and niece to Thomas Mauleverer, Esq., of Am- 
cli£^, in that county ; of an antient and respectable family. 
Dr. Parr married Miss Marsengale, because he wanted a 
housekeeper; Miss Marsengale married Dr. Parr, because 
she wanted a house. She was an only child, bred up by 
three maiden aunts, as she said of herself, " in rigidity and 
frigidity," and she always described Dr. Parr as " bom 'in a 
whirlwind, and bred a tyrant" Such discordant elements 
were not likely to produce harmony. The lady lost few 
opportunities of annoying her spouse; an object, which a 
strong understanding and caustic powers of language afforded 
lier more than ordinary facilities of accomplishing; and she 
always preferred exposing his foibles and ridiculing his pecu- 
liarities in the presence of others. These domestic matters 
are here referred to only as explaining some of the subsequent 
enigmas of the life and conduct of Dr. Parr. His mind and 
temper were kept in continual irritation ; and he was driven 
to the resources of visiting, and to the excitement of that 
table talk which unfortunately superseded efforts of more 
lasting character. Porson used to say, — " Parr would have 
been a great man but for three things, — his trade, his wife, 
and his politics !" By this hb first wife, who died at Teign- 
mouth, April 16. 1810, (and was buried at Hatton,) Dr. Parr 
bad several children, who died in their infancy; and two 
daughters who grew up. Of these, the younger, Catharine* 


died unmarried; the elder, Sarah, was united in 1797, to 
John, the eldest son of Colonel Wynne, of Plasnwydd, near 
Benb^h, and died at Hatton, in 1810, havuig ^ven birth to 
three duughters, two c^ whom, Caroline and Ansusta, are 
now hTing> t^e ibrmer being the wife of the Bev. John Ljiies, 
reetM" of Elmley Lovett, Worcestershire ; one of ihe Doctor's 

The period of X)r. Parr's continuance at StaniiKH^, was 
five years. " The boys who accompanied him," bo use the 
words of one of his pupils, " were, in general, the flower of 
Harrow school, in the zenith of its glory, when a Sumner 
presided in its academic bowers. Many were young men of 
OHisiderable talents and matured intellect, and detested alike 
a Persian, a Grecian, or an English tyrant; knew the lan- 
guage, and glowed with idl the fervour, of Demosthenes. 
The fine Alcaic fragment in praise of Harmodius and Aristo- 
giton, the deliverers of Greece, echoed from every tongue, 
and had been translated by almost every hand among the 
elder of them. That master, however, let it be remembered, 
was no advocate for insubordination, since nobody ever carried 
school discipline to a higher pitch ; the result of which, oo 
some occasions, brought on him unmerited obloquy. ITiat 
the democratic spirit prevailed, Utough to no culpable extent, 
among the gentlemen about that period educated at HaiTow, 
may in some degree be accounted for by their being so welt 
read, under the tuition of their learned deceased master, in 
Gre^ history, by which they were naturally interested in the 
fete of liberty, — that liberty whose cause was so well supported 
by its orators against the armies of the Persian satrap, and 
the insidious designs of Philip. The power of gold had also 
been recently, and to aa alarming extent, tried in their own 
country by the daring minbter, who is said to have affirmed 
that every man had his price." 

Besides Thomas Maurice, whose pen indited the preceding 
paragntphs, " pre-eminent among these worthies of Stan- 
tnote, were William Julius, the captain, and Walter Pollard, 
two mott excellent Kbtdare, natives of the tropic, ' souls made 



(tf fira, and children of Uie sun,' — the iRtter c^ whom w«e 
afterwards can^lroller of the exchequer, aod died in 1818." 
Others wer« Headkf^^ Beloe, Dr. bfeltby, the learned but 
jodiscreet Qerald, &e. &c 

The odTflntages of the Stanmore estaUisbnrent were nol^ 
bowever, equal to the Doctor's expectettoQS. His expences 
were escessive, his profits therefore inconsiderable, his la- 
bours most oppressive and he fouDd the impossibility of sup- 
peitHig his situation against tbe influence and credit <^ a 
great public school, and the well-founded reputation of his 
competitor, Dr. Heatb. He dierefore, in 1776, was induced 
to accept the master^ip of Colchester sefaool, and thither a 
considerable part of his Stanmore scholars followed him. 
He was ordained priest in 1777. and held the cures of the 
parishes of Trinity and the Highe, Ccdchester. In 1778, he 
obtained tbe mastership of Norwich school, where Mr. Beloe 
was for three ye^ his under-master, and the Rev. T. Munro 
his scholar; and in 1779, he undertook the care of two cura- 
cies at Norwich; these he resigned in 1780, in which year 
he received his iirst ecclesiastical preferment, the rectory of 
Asterby, in Ijncolnshire, In the summer of this year be 
commenced his career as an author, by the publication of 
" Two Sermons on Education," 

In 1781, he was admitted to the d^;ree of LL.D. at Cam- 
bridge, but without any pardcular mark of distinction. It is 
not a Utde singular, that throughout tbe whole period of his 
connectim with the University, from the time of his being 
m^Ticulated up to the c<HnpIetIoii of his graduation, he never 
Qtice came forward as a candidate for the peculiar honours of 
bis Alma Mater. Among the various anecdotes and tradi- 
tions of Dr. Parr, it has been said, that at a subsequent period 
he astonished the sophs, tutors, professors, and heads of 
houses, by preaching to them a sermon in Greek; and a 
cosaparisoa has been gravely instituted between this learned 
eSusi<Hi and the Greek discourse delivered at Paris in 1687j 
by M. Lancelot, to tbe fraternity of the Holy Sepulchre of 
JeruBaleiDt on the day wh^ that society celebrated the anni- 



versary of their foimdation, in the monastery of the Cordeliers. 
There is certainly noliiing in the difficult of the undertaking 
which should render lliis tale incredible. There are many 
men in the present day nho could perform it with ease ; and 
as for Dr. Parr himself, be frequently conversed in Greek 
with some of his erudite friends, when they chose to keep 
dieir conversation to themselves. However, we have no 
doubt. that the whole foundation of the story is this: — Dr. 
Parr preached the~ commencement sermon when Dr. Davy 
was vice-chancellor. He preached in En^ish; but, being 
before a learned audience, he felt himself justiBed ia making 
a liberal use of quotations from Greek authors, in the original 
language, instead of translating them. 

In the summer of 1781, appeared "A Discourse on the 
late Fast, by Phileleutherus Norfolcieucis," 4to. This ser* 
mon has been considered the best of Dr. Parr's productions, 
and had a corresponding success; for though anonymously 
published, the whole impression, consisting of four hundred 
and fifty copies, was sold in two months; and it is at present 
a work rf most extraordinary rarity. In the spring of 1783, 
Lady Trafibrd, whose son he had educated, presented him 
with the perpetual curacy of Hatton, then worth about SO/, 
per aitnum; and in April 17SS, he removed to that seat of 
hospitality, where he spent the remainder of his days ; retir- 
ing, while yet in the enjoyment of youth and strength, from 
the fatigue of public teaching, and devoting his leisui-e to the 
private tuition of a limited number of pupils. After this pre- 
ferment he resigned Asterby. In the same year, he obtained 
from Bishop X.owth, through the extraordinary merit of his 
first sermon, supported by the interest of the present Earl of 
Dartmouth's grandfather, the prebend of Wenlock Bams, in 
the Catiiedral of St. Paul. In 17S5, he resumed his former 
subject, in " A Discourse on Education, and on the Plans 
pursued in Charity Schools," and about a thousand copies 
were sold in a very short time. This quarto volume is an 
able and masterly argument for popular education and- im- 
provement, and had the distinguished merit of being one of 



the first puUicaUons which concentrated public attenUon on 
the all-important subject or.the moral and intellectual instruc- 
ticHi of the people. 

In 1 787, Dr. Parr assisted the Rev. Henry Homer in a new 
edition of the three books of Bellendenus, * a learned Scots- 
man, Humanity Professor at Paris, in 1602, and Master of 
of Requests to James I. These he respectively dedicated to 
Mr. Burke, Lord North, and Mr. Fox. f He prefixed a I«tia 
pre&ce, with characters of those distinguished statesmen, the 
style of whldi is, perhaps, the most successful of all modem 
imitations of Cicero. How far the preface was appropriate 
may be doubted. Bellendenus had intended a large woi^, 
<* De Tribus Luminibus Romanorum," the " Hree Lif^ts of 
Rome," Cicero, Seneca, and the elder Phny ; whence Dr.Parr 
conceived the idea of delineating the characters of the then 
three most eminent senators of Great Britain. Bnt however 
great the inappn^riateness of the modem appendage to Bel- 
lendenus may have been, and however Dr. Perr might have 
more appositely employed his critical talents, certain it is, that- 
the taste and character of the composition, and the singular dis- 
crimination in the portraits, created an extraordinary sensation 
in the literary and political world. A translation (by Mr, 
Beloe) was published in octavo in 1788, but without the 
author's approbation. Dr. Parr had thenceforth fully com- 
mitted himself on the aide of the popular party. This naturally 
terminated all hope of church preferment from the Court ; and 
such was the low state of Dr. Parr's pecuniary resources, that 
a subscription was made by the leading Whigs of the day*- 
about the same period as that for Mr. Fox, and a well-merited 
annuity of 300A was purchased for Dr. Part's life. 

* I. " De Stslu piiaci orbii in Rdigione, Re PoIitic4,1 et Literii." II. 
« Ciceronis Princeps; sive, de Statu Prineipia et Imperii. " III, " Cicenmis 
CoDuil, Senator, Senstusque Honutnus ; svc de Statu Help. «t UrUi Imptraotis 

f Dramatis PcMonie. Doron, Marquis of lansdowne ; NaiMa, Lord Thut- 
law ; Utio-ThemUtoclei, Duke of Kchmand ; ThTatylmlm, Mr. Diuidai| 
Oadim, Hr. W. 

VOt, X. 



In lVS9, Appeared " Tracts by Warburton and a Warbur- 
tonian, not udmlUsd into the Collection of their respective 
Works." Although it was thought that personaT feelings 
towards Bishop Hurd gave origin to this volume, yet it was 
allowed on ell hands, to contfdn some admirable critical re- 
marks. It produced a reply, entitled, " A Letter to Dr. Parr, 
occasioned by his Repubhcation," &c. 

In 1790, Dr. Parr exchanged the curacy of Hatton (tJunigh 
he still continued to reside there as depity-curate) Ear the 
rectory of Waddenhoei, in Northamptonshire. In the same 
year he became acquainted with Dr. Priestley. Ft»* this in- 
timacy he tluis apolo^zes : — " I am at & loss to see why a 
clergyman of the church of F-ng land shoold shun the presence 
of <a dissenting minister, merely because they do not agree on 
doctarinal points whidi have long divided the Christian world : 
and, indeed, I have always found, that when men (MT sense and 
nttue mingle in conversation, the barsh and confused suspi- 
cions which they entertained of each ot^r, give way to more 
jdst and more candid sentiments." 
' Iq 1^90, also, Dt, Parr was involved in the controversy on 
the real authorahip of the Bampton Lectures preached by 
X^. White, This controversy produced a pamphlet by Dr. 
Wlite, «itilled " A Statement of Dr. White's Literary Ob- 
lations to the late Rev. Mr. Samuel Badcock, and the Rev. 
Samuel Parr, LL.D^" Oxford, 1790. 

Jn ITSl happened the riots in Birmingham, when the 
library and t^0B(^1ucal apparatus of Dr.Priestley were burnt ; 
and the mob hearing that Dr. Parr had been visiting Dr. 
FdesUey, made known their detennination to proceed to 
Hatton, and biim Dr. Parr's house and library. For three 
days and nights Dr. Parr and his family were agitated with 
consternation and dismay, but happily, before the mob could 
acoon^)lt^ tbdr.puqxise, the military put an end to their 
horrible proceedings. In that unexampled period of national 
^xcatement, when poliUcal and religious prejudices raged 
together, Dr. Parr acted a manly, a decided, and a most ho- 
nourable part. Undifimayeci by the dangers of the atUaapt, 



and the unpromising consequences to his worldly interests, 
he ardently strove to conciliate the divided parties of his 
countrymen. It is well known, that the pretext for these 
outrages was a meeting held by the dissenters on the 14tli of 
July, 1791, in celebration of the French Revolution. In con- 
sequence of a report that a party retniuned stubborn enough 
to meditate another commemoration upon the ensuing anni- 
versary of that event, a step that might have brought destruc- 
tion upon themselves and the whole town, the Doctor, in one 
day, b^an and finished bis ** Letter firom IrenopoUs to the 
Inhabitants of Eleutheropolis ; or a seriofis Address to the 
Dissenters of Birmingham, by a Member of the Established 
Church." This extraordinary pamphlet produced an adver- 
tisement from the Dissenters, in which they disclaimed all 
intention of meeting again upon that occasion. Though con- 
sisting of only forty pages, it Js among the most eloquent of 
Dr. E*arr's publications. Like most of his productions, it was 
written on tiie spur of the occasion. The following sentiments 
which he expresses with r^ard to Dr. Priestiey, are highly 
honourable to both parties : — 

" I should not think well of your sensibility, if you were 
indifferent to the loss of so excellent a preacher as Dr. Priestley. 
But I shall think very ill of your moderation if yon make that 
loss a pretext for perpetuating disputes, which, if my argu- 
ments or my prayers could prevail, would speedily have an 

'* Upon the theological disputes in which the Doctor has 
been engaged with some clergymen of your town, I forbear to 
give any opinion } yet, while I disclaim all allusion to local 
events, I will ibake yon a concession which you have my leave 
to apply to persons of higher rank as ecclesiastics, and of 
greater celebrity as scholars, than your town can supply. I 
confess, with sorrow, that in too many instances such modes 
of defence have been used against this formidable heresiarch, 
as would hardly be justifiable in the support of revelation 
itaelf against the arrogance of a Bolingbroke, the buffoonery 
of a Mahdeville, and the levity of a Voltaire. But the cause- 
K 2 


of ortliodoxy requires- not sucliaids. — The church of England 
{^proves them not — the spirit of Christianity warrants them 
not Let Dr. Priestley, indeed, be .confuted, where he is 
mistaken. Let him be exposed where he is superficial. Let 
him be repressed where he is dogmatical. Let him be re-, 
buked where he is censorious. But let not his attainments 
be depreciated, because they are numerous, almost without a 
parallel. Let not his talents be ridiculed, because they are 
superlatively great. Let not liis morals be vilified, because 
they are correct without austerity, and exemplary without 
ostentation ; because they present, even to common observers, 
the innocence of a hermit and the siniplicity of a patriarch ; 
nnd because a philosophic eye will at once discover in them 
the deep fixed root of virtuous principle and the solid trunk of 
virtuous habit. 

■ " If I mistake not the character of that excellent man, whom 
I respect in common with yourselves, he would not wish to 
see you agmn plunged into mischiefs, which cannot again 
reach himself — spare then his blushes, and Ms tears — give 
him the satisfaction of knowing that you have proved to the 
world, the wholesome efficacy of his instructions, by your 
generosity in forgiving those who have already been your 
enemies, and by your wisdom in not offending those who wish 
to continue your friends." 

In 1791, Dr. Parr having received two anonymous letters, 
probably undeserving of notice, publicly attributed them to 
the Rev. Charles Curtis, rector of Solihull, in Warwickshire. 
This unlucky surmise rested on a few slight coincidences, 
which suspicion, as usual, magnified into proo£ There Is 
strong reason for bdieving that these letters emanated from 
Dr. Parr's own pupils, who were fond of encoura^g literary 
war&re. Mr. Curtis, in justification of his own character, 
contradicted the charge in the St. James's Chronicle, which , 
produced fi'om the Doctor an octavo pamplet of two hundred ■ 
and seveiiteen pages, thickly strewed with notes, and a pro- 
portionate appendix, entitled, " A Sequel to the Printed 
Paper lately circulated in Warwickshire by the Rev. Charles 



Curtis, a Birmingham Rector," &c. 1793. Though the sub^ 
ject was litde worthy of our modem Aristarchus, yet its pages 
contain some admirable remarks on the poUtical and religious 
topics of the day. So open to ridicule, however, was this 
huge Sequel, that it tempted Cumberland to enter the field 
with a humourous pamphlet, called " Curtius rescued from 
the Gulpb, or the Retort Courteous to the Rev. Dr. Parr, in 
answer to bis learned Pamphlet, entitled • A Sequel,' &c." 

In this composition, the author raked into the indexes of 
the Delpbin and Mattaire's editions as cleverly as the Doctor 
had cited Stobieus. From the title^age — 

" lUe mi Par esse deus vitletur, 
lile, si fas est, superarc divos."— Catullus. 

to the word finis, inclusive, 

'* Jam sumuB ergo Fares !" 
it was one string of puns. 

In 1793, he was planged into the depths of another and 
yet more important controversy. Dr. Parr had been induced 
to afford valuable advice and assistance to Mr. Homer and 
Dr. Charles Combe, in editing a most splendid and compre- 
hensive edition of Horace. Mr. Homer was an accurate and 
not unsuccessful editor of the prose classics ; but his exertions 
on a poet of the very first order are supposed to have hastened 
his end. On the demise of Mr. Homer, * the bulk of the 
undertaking devolved on Dr. Combe, who was found incom- 
petent to the discharge of so arduous a task ; and Dr. Parr's 
assistance towards the second volume, from circumstances 
which may on some future occasion be developed, was with- 
drawn, and he was induced 'to publish some severe animad- 
versions • in the " British Critic," a periodical work then 
lately established by Mr. Beloe, and others. Tn reply to this, 

. * On being informed of the death of Mr. Homer, Dr. Pnr wd, with extreme 

emotion : " I shall never look on his like again ; I do not speak of the frieie or 

flie cornice, but I ipeak of the column." 

. f lliii cHtiiliie, iriiieh continued through five number), wa> psiti; imprinted 

ia 1S12, " with alteratjona and additioie," in ttie SfUi volume of tbe " Classical 


K S 



Dr. Conite publbhed a -pampblet, entitled, " A Statement of 
Facts, relative to the behaviour of the Rev. Dr. Parr to the 
late Mr. Homer and Dr. Combe, in order to point out the 
source, falsehood, and malignity of Dr. Parr's attack, in the 
' British Critic,' on the character of Dr. Combe, 1764." In 
this statement, Dr. Parr was accused of breach of promise, 
violation of friendship, and even want of veracity ; he was 
styled by his antagonist the " literary Ajax ;" and to make 
that epithet good, he replied, in a closely-printed ootavo 
pamphlet of nine^-four pages, called " Remarks on the 
Statement of Dr. Charles Combe, by an occasional Writer in 
the ' British Critic,' 1795." The following extract from this 
pamphlet is interesting, as it contains Dr. Parr's own account 
of his critical labours : — 

" The reader will, I trust, excuse me, if, for reasons of 
delicacy, I now take an opportunity to state the whole ext^t 
of the share^ I have ever had in reviews. To the ' British 
Critic,* I have sent one article, besides those which were 
written for the Horace. For the ' Critical Review,' I have 
lumished a few materials for two articles only. For the 
' Monthly ' I have assisted in writing two or three, and the 
number of those which are entirely my own does not exceed 
six or seven. In almost all these critiques, my intention was 
to commend rather than to blame, and the only one in which 
I ever blamed with severity, related to a classical work, the 
editor of which deserved reproof for the following reasons. 
, He dothed bad criticisms in bad Latinity. He bad not 
av^led himself of that information which preceding edition^ 
would have supplied to any intelligent editor. From the 
stores of other critics he collected very little, and Irom bis, 
own be produced yet less that was valuable. But he had in- 
dulged himself in rude and petulant objections against Dr> 
Bentley ; and for this cfaiefiy I censured him. Here ends 
the catalogue of my crimes hitherto committed in revievi^ ; 
and, as I now have somewhat more leisure than I fonnarly 
enjoyed, it is possible that I may now and dien add to their 
number. But I assure Dr. Combe and the publk, th^ 



whensoever I take i^cm myself to deal rigorously with any 
writer, I shall not shrink from the Etrictest respobsibili^l 
My coDtributimii to wtH^ of this kind are occasional, and, 
therefore, I have no right to the benefit of that secrecy which 
it may be wise and honourdile for the regular conductors of 
reviews to preserve. Of the share which I have already 
taken, and may hereafter Uke^ in these periodical publican 
tions, I never can be ashamed. I might plead the example 
of many scholars both at home and abroad, far superior td 
myself in vigour of intellect, and extent of erudition. But I 
wish rather to insist npon the utility of the works tbemselvesj 
and upon the <^portunities which they furnish to men of 
learnuig, for rendering some occasional service to llie general 
cause of literature. There is no one review in this country 
but what is ctxiducted with a considerable d^ee of ability: 
and thmi^ I decline the task of deciding npon iheir com*- 
parative excellence, I have no hesitation in saying, that all 
of them deserve encouragement from learned men. Th^ 
much oftener assist than retard the circulation of Ixx^ls ~*- 
ihey mu<^ oflaner extend than check the reputation of good 
books — they rarely prosdtute commendation upon sach as 
are notoriously bad. For my put, I am disposed to view 
with a bvourable eye die different (pinions and pr^en^ties 
which may be traced in the minds of the differ^it writers. 
By such mllisions of sentiment truth is brought into fuller 
view, and a reader finds himself impelled, by the very strongest 
fOiriosity, to examine the reasons upon which men of talents 
nearly equal have founded deciaons totally opposite. Bf 
posterity, too, reviews will he considered as Hsefiil reposi- 
tories of the most ^lendid passages in the most cel^roteH 
works. They will show the progress of a country, ' or an age, 
in taste and arts, in refinement <^ manners, and in the cu>- 
Luation of science. They m^rk the gradations «f- ianffXttge 
itself, and the progressive or retrograde motions of the pabifc 
mind upon the most interesting subjects in ethics, in iwlitics, 
and in religicm." 

K i 



< Mr, Boswell, in his Life of Dr. Jolinson, having expressed 
his doubts respecting the correctness of Dr. Parr's assertion^ 
that tlie great lexicographer " not only endured, but almost 
solicited an interview with Dr. Priestley," Dr. Parr sent to 
" The Gentleman's Magazine," in March, 1795, his reasons for 
that assertion, which were accompanied by some curious coi^ 
respondence. To this " a general answer" was prepared by 
Mr. Boswell, a short time before hb death, but not pub- 
lished.* In the same year, Mr. Beloe published a trans- 
lation of "Aulas Gellius," the very learned and judicious pi'e- 
&ce to which was written by Dr. Parr. 

On Easter Tuesday, in the year 1800, Dr. Parr preached 
his justly-celebrated Spital Sermon, at Christ-church, New- 
gate-street, before Harvey Christian Combe, Esq. the Lord 
Mayor. The church, thou^ large, was crowded to excess, 
and . the doctor gradfied the more intelligent portion of his 
hearers by a discourse, in which he happily combated the 
delusive dc^^mas of those philosophers who ascribe all bene- 
volence and justice to a selfish principle. This sermon was 
soon ailerwards printed, with a number of curious notes ; 
which induced the author of " Political Justice " to publish, 
in the same year, an octavo pamphlet, entitled " Thoughts 
occasioned by the perusal of Dr. Parr's Spital Sermon, be- 
ing a Reply to die Attacks of Dr. P., Mr. MackintCKh, and 
others." A suspension of intercourse between Dr. Parr and 
Mr. Godwin was the consequence ; but a few months pre- 
vious to his death. Dr. Parr sent Mr. Godwin a message of 
-peace, and invitation to Hatton. 

In 1801, Dr. Parr was ofiered (by Alexander Baring, Esq.) 
but decUned it, the vicarage of Winterboume Stoke, in 
Wiltshire. In 1802 he was presented by Sir Francis Burdett 
to the rectory of Graffham, in Huntingdonshire. Tlie fol- 
lowing is the interesting correspondence which passed on the 
occasimi: — 

* See SkboWs "IiUenry Anecdotes," U. 403. 


REV. SAMUEL PAlia. 137 

<' I am sorry that it is not in my power to place yon 
in a situation which would become you — I mean in the 
Episcopal Pahtce at Buckden : but I can bring you very near 
to it; for I have the presentation to a rectory now vacant, 
within a mile and a half of it^ which is very much at JDr. 
Parr's service. It is the rectory of Graffham, at present 
worth 200/. a year, ami, as I am informed, may soon be 
worth 270/.; and I this moment learn that the incumbent 
died last Tuesday. 

" Dr. Parr's talents and character might well entitle him to 
a better patronage than this irom those who know how to 
estimate his merits; bnt 1 acknowledge that a great addi- 
tional motive with me to the o^r I now make faim, is, that 
I believe I cannot do any thing more plea^g to bis friends, 
Mr. Fox, Mr. Sheridan, and Mr. Knight ; and 1 desire yon. 
Sir, to consider yom^elf obliged to them only. 
" I have the honour to be, Sir, 
*' With the greatest respect, your obedient Servant, 

" Francis Buiujett." 

"Dear Sir, Vicarage- House, Buckden, Sept 26, 1802. 

" Aiier rambling in various parts of Norfolk, I went to 
Cambridge, and from Cambridge I yesterday came to the 
parsonage of my most respectable fi-iend, Mr. Maltby, at 
Buckden, where 1 this morning had the honour of receiving 
your letter. Mrs. Parr opened it last Friday at Hatton, and 
I trust that you wUl pardon the liberty she took in desiring 
your servant to convey it to me in Huntingdonshire, where 
she knew diat I should be, as upon this day. 

" Fennit me^ dear Sir, to request that you would acc^t 
the warmest and most sincere thanks of my heart for this un- 
solicited, but most honourable, expression of your good will 
towards me. Nothing can be more important to my worldly 
interest than the service you have done me, in presenting me 
to the living of Graffham. Nothing can be more exqui- 
sitdy gnUifying to my very best feeling, than the language in 


138 a£V. SAMUEL FAAR. 

which you have conveyed to me this mark of your friendship. 
Indeed, dear Sir, you have enabled me to paas the years of de- 
cliniag li& in comfortable and honom^ile ind^>eDdence. You 
have givea me addidonal and unalterable convicdoD, that the 
firmness with which I have adhered to my princ^Ies has ob- 
tuned &r me the approbation of wise and good men. And 
when that approbation assumes, as it now does, the form t^ 
protection, I fairly confess to you, that the patronage of Sir 
Francis Buidett has a rig^t to be ranked among the proudest, 
as well as the hiqipiest, events of my life. I trust that ny 
bture conduct will justify you in tlw dbinterested oud gene- 
rous gift wluch you have bestowed upcm me : and sure I am 
that my friends, Mr. Fox, Mr. Sheridan^ and Mr. Knight, 
wiilj Dot only share with me in my joy, but sympathize with 
me in those sentim»)t£ of respect and gratitude whidi I shall 
ever feel towards Sir Francis Burdett. 

** Most assuredly I shall myself set a higher value upon 
your kindness, when I consider it as intended to gratify the 
frienifly feelings of those excellent men, as well as to promote 
my own personal happiness. 

" I shall wait your pleasure about the presentation: and I 
be^ leave to add, that 1 shall stay at Buckden for one week 
only, and shall have reached Hatton about this day fortn^ht, 
where I shall obey your commands. One circumstance, I lun 
Eurei will give you great satis&ctimi, and th»«fore I shall beg 
leave to state it. The living of Graff ham will be of infinite 
value to tne, because it is triable with a Bectwy I now have 
in Northamptonshire ; and happy I am, that my future rest- 
deooe wiU be fixed, and my existence closed upon that spot 
where Sir Francis Burdett has given me the pow«- of spend- 
uig my old age with comforts and conveniences quite equal 
to the extent of my fondest wishes, and far surpasung any 
expecMionE I have hitherto ventured to indulge. 

** I have die honour to be, with the greatest reqwct and 
most unft^aed thankfulness, dear Sir, 

** Your very obedient, iaithfol servant, 

" S. Pabb." 



For this preferment, which relieved him as to pecuniary 
matters* Dr. Parr always expressed a due sense of the kind- 
ness of the worthy baronet. Still, howevra-, be ccmtinoed 
attached to bis residence at Hstton, where he had secured, 
fuid ever cxmtinued to maintain, the esteem of all his p** 
rishioners, bad greatly embellished the church by painted win- 
dows, &c. and 'had given it a peal of bdls. Nor wonld be 
have quitted Hatton for any preferment short of a mitre, 
which, in 1807, bad nearly adorned bis manly brows, ^'Had 
my iriends," be once said to a gentleman to whom he was 
warmly attached, and for whose character he always ex- 
[B^ssed the greatest admiration and respect^* " bad my 
friends continued in power one fortnight longer, it would 
have been all setded : Dr. Huntingfbrd was to have been 
translated to Hereiord, and I should have had Gloucester. My 
family arrangements were made; and I bad determined that 
flo clergyman in my diocese, who had occasion to call upon me, 
should dqwrt without partaking of my dinner." Aller a 
momentary pause he obaerved, " in the House c^ Peers I 
should seldom have opened my mouth, unless — unless (he 
added with some warmth) any one had presumed to attack 
the diarocter of my friend Charles Fox -^ and then I would 
have knocked him down with the full torrent of my impe- 
tuosity. Charles Fox was a great man ; and so is your friend 
William Pitt ; and I can tall you, that if I had them both 
in this room, and only we three bad been together, I would 
have locked the door — but first would have had plenty*^ 
wine on the table -~ and depend upon it we should not have 
disagreed ! " 

Id 1 SOS, Dr. Parr published another Ito. sermon, " preached 
on the late Fast, Oct, 19, at the Parbh-cburch of Hatton." 
A lettra* of the doctor's to the late Lord Warwick, on some 
dectioneermg disputes, was also printed, but was suppressed; 
though, as a specimen of the vituperative s^l^ it is worthy, 
or, as some may think, unworthy of preservation. 
■ Mr, John Hicbols. 



■ Twenty years since, Dr. Parr reprinted some metaphysical 
tracts : — " Arthur Collier's Clavis Universalis;" " Conjecturoe 
qusedom de Seosu, Motn, et Idearum Generatione ;" " An In- 
quiry into the Origin of the Human Appetites and Affections, 
showinjg how each arises from Assodation ; " and " Man in 
Quest of Himself, or a Defence of the Individuality of the 
Human Mind, or Self." These he intended to republish, pro- 
bably with ori^al remarks, but the whole impression is 
stored up in the printer's warehouse. 

. In 1 808, Mr. Coke, of Holkham,- made Dr. Parr an ofer 
of the rectory of Buckingham. Thb, however, did not 
tempt the doctor to leave the spot to which he was so at- 
tached. ; 

On. the death of Mr. Fox, Dr. Parr announced his inten- 
tion of pubUshing a Life of his celebrated friend and poli- 
dcal &voarite. The expectations of the public were excited, 
but were certainly disappointed in a publication of two octavo 
volumes, entitled " Characters of the late Charles James 
Fox ; selected, and in part written, by Philopatris Varvi- 
cencis," 1809. A collection of characters from the various 
public journals occupies one hundred and seventy-five pages ; 
an orif^nal character, in the form of an epistle to Mr. Coke, 
one hundred and thirty-five ; and the second volume is filled 
with notes on the amelioration of the penal code and re- 
li^ous liberty, plentifully inl^d with citations from the classics. 
Considering the grotesque arrangiement of matter and subjects, 
it is not surprising that this work should have experienced 
unmerited neglect The philosophic reader will, however, 
discern the recondite and metaphysical style of the author ; 
and it is but justice to add, that the character of our great 
democratical orator is felicitously delineated. 
, On December 27, 1816, after about am years widowhood. 
Dr. Parr married secondly, Mary, sister of Mr. Eyre, of 
Coventry, who survives faim. . 

Two small publications, one of which was printed by his 
especial request (containing a critical essay by Dr. Parr on 
the character of Dr. Taylor, the learned editor of Demos- 



thenes end Lysias) ; and of the other of which he was the 
immediate editor, muiit not pass unnoticed. Theywere, — . 
1st. " Two Music Speeches at Cambridge, ia 1711 and 1730,. 
by Roger. Long, M.A., and John Taylor, M.A., to which 
are added, a Latin Speech of Dr. Taylor ; several of his 
juvenile Poems; some Minor Essays in proSe; and Speci- 
mens of his Epistolary Correspondence; with Memoirs of 
Dr. Taylor, and Dr. Long." 8vo. 1819. 2dly. " Four Ser-. 
moQS : 1 & 2, by Dr. Taylor ; S, by Bishc^ Lowth ; and 4, 
by Bishop Hayter ; with a pre&ce suggested by remarks of' 
Dr. Parr." 

A variety of Dr. Parr's minor literary productions appeared 
in " The Gentleman's Magazine ;" to which he was a frequent* 
and valuable correspondent. Among these are two Letters on 
the subject of Howard's statue, a learned Letter to the Rev. 
Mr. Glasse, on the word Cauponari, and several Letters to 
Lord Chedworth (inserted in a report of the trial on the will 
of that nobleman].* Many biographical notices from his mas- 
terly pen have also graced the pages of Sylvanus Urban, viz. 
Memoirs of Mr. John Smitheman, Bishop Bennett, the Rev. 
John Dealtry, Miss Euphemia Brown, Bishop Home, Mr. 
Bartiett^ Mr. W. H. Lunn, the bookseller, his daughter^ 
Catharine Jane Parr, his last surviving daughter, Sarah Anne 
Wynne, his companion and occasional amanuensis, the Rev.- 
J. Bartlam, &c. In " The Gentleman'sMagaane" may likewise 
be found most of bis Latin epitaphs [amounting to upwards , 
of thirty), for the production of which he was well prepared, 
having spent much of his Ume in studying the Latin inscrip- 
tions in Sponius, Fabretti, Gruter, Huratorius, and Reine- 
sius. One of the most celebrated of Dr. Parr's epitaphs is 
that which is inscribed on the monument of Dr. Johnson, at 
. Su Paul's. He undertook the office of writing it with great ' 

■ On thM occa^im, it waa thougbt the doctor h«d been too anxious ia procur- 
ing for himself > piece of plate from the late Lord, puliciiliirl; w be had conMnted 
la write the Latin inscription hinuelf ; but from this Bccuwtion he was utiiAc- 
igrilf dsfnided bf Mr. Eyre, of SoIihuU, wbo) it nu prond, mUljr ranpoHd ft. . 



reluctance, and <hi the express conditioii of being left to act 
Bcccwding to his own judgment ; and he frequently and loudly 
complained of die unhandsome treMment which he received 
on the occasion from some of Dr. Johnson's friends. Several 
times he was on the point of withdrawing his inscription 
wholly ; and, indeed, he certainly would have done so but 
for the interposition of Sir William Scott (the present Lord 
Stowell), whose name Dr. Farr always pronounced with un- 
usual veneration, and whom be conddered as one of the most 
distinguished characters in Europe, for depth of understand- 
ing, correctness of taste, and integrity of principle. In speaking 
of Johnson as a poet, the doctor had used ths words *' pro- 
babili poetie," and had congratulated himself not merely on 
the propriety, but on the felid^ of the expression, but nei- 
ther the strength of his own conviction, nor the erudition 
with which he supported it by various passages irora classical 
writers, was sufficient to overcome the prejudice of some 
of Johnson's admirers, who seem neither to have understood 
the propriety, nor to have felt the beauty of the expression. 
The Doctor at length substituted a passage which, however 
satisfactory to those gentlemen, and however splendid in it- 
self, was supposed by the best cridcs to mar the whole com- 
position. At the request of Lord SheiB^, Dr. Parr also 
wrote an epitiqth on Mr. Gibbon ; but, oonscious of the 
Bulger to which an ecdesia^c must be exposed in attempting 
to do justice to the literary and intellectual merits of that 
celebrated mfidel, he called in the advice of his friends Mr. 
Fox, and the learned Dr. Routh, upon bis choice both of topics 
and of phrasecdogy. Dr. Parr likewise wrote epitaphs rat 
Bichard Porson, Cliaries Fox, Edmtmd Burk^ and William 
Pitt, whidi are said to be full of ngonr and beauty, but 
rthidi have not hitherio been presented to the public. _ Con- 
nected with this subject is an anecdote, which has been related 
of Dr. Parr and Lord Erskine. It is said, that at a dinner 
•pme years since. Dr. Parr, in ecstacies with the conversa- 
tioaid powers of Lord &skine, called out t« him (thoi^ his: 



junior), " My Lor^, 1 mean lowrite your epitaph ! " <' Dr. 
Pott," replied the acMe lawyer, " it is a temptation to com- 
mit suicide 1 " Of Dr. Parr's lapidary compositions we insert 
the two following ; because they afford specimens <^ very 
different and almost opposite styles; and because they serve 
to show the real state of his feelings in the important relations 
both of pupil and of preceptor. 


Robertas Sumaer, S. T. P. 

Col). Regal, apud Cantab, oliin Socius. 

Scliolfe Harrovensis, hand ita pridem. 

Arch i dldaschal ufi. 

Fuit huic preestantissimo Viro 

Ingenium Natura peracre, bptimanim 

Disciplinis Artium sedulo excuttuni, 

Usu diutumo confirmatum, et quodam, 

Modo subacuim. 

Nemo enim 

Aut in reconditis sapientiie Studiig tllo 

Subtilior exstitit 

Aut in humanioribus literia limatior 

Matunc egregiis cum dodbus turn 

DoctriDE prffidito 

Inauper accedebant 

In Sentcntiis, vera ac perfecta eloquentia, 

In Sermone, facetiarum lepog, plen^ 


Et gravitati aspersa urbanitat ; 

In moribus slngularis qusedam 

Integritas et fides ; 

Vitie denique Ratio congtans sibi, et ad 

Virtutis normam diligenter 

Severeque exacta, 

Onmibua qui vel amico essent eo 

Vel magiatro uu, I 

Doctrine, Ingenii, Virtutis justuni 

Reliquit Desiderium, 

Subite, eheu, atque immatura morle correptue, 

Prid. Id. Septemb. 

Anno Domini Mjbcc.LXXL 



Joanni. Stnitheman 
Qui. vix. Ann. xv. Mens. viii. Dieb. 
Decessit. viii. Id. Mart. Anno, lacro 


Joannei. et. Margaretn. Smitheman 

Farentei. infelici»imi 

Unico. et< chariiBimo. filio 

Contra. Votum, potueruot. 

Dr. Parr's library, which he built on going to reside at 
Hatton, is a large and well-proportioned room. But as it 
was no longer capable of holding all his books, many of 
them have for a long time been distributed among other 
f^artments. The doctor was always anxious to have it un- 
derstood, that he never aspired to the character of a collector, 
and that in his purchase of books he was uniformly attenUve 
to their use, rat)>er than to their rarity; and to the import- 
ance of their contents, rather then to the elegance of their 
binding and of their type. For the best editions of classical 
writers, for the most useful and learned works in philosophy, 
metaphysics, and biblical criticism, for general taste in selec- 
tion, and wide range of literature, a more valuable collection 
has probably never been made by any single scholar. His 
manuscripts are said to be very numerous, and upon various 
subjects of verbal criticism, theology, and metaphysics. He 
often declared during his lifetime, that they were not in a 
state fit for publication ; that many of them were illegible 
even to himself; and that he had most peremptorily desired 
his executors to destroy them after his death, without distinc- 
tion, and even without inspection. Fortunately, hovever, Dr. 
Parr seems to have rd-considered this subject; for fae has left 
written directions for the positive publication of some, and 
the discretionary publication of other parts of his works ; a 
duty which his executors will no doubt undertake with all 
the care and fidelity which the case requires. It is under- 
stood, that som6 of his manuscripts are already in the hands 


RfeV. SAMUEL tARRt 14^1 

t^ his most confidential and jndidous fiWds, vith a vie# to 
this selection; whidti is likely to be rich, varied, and extendTe* 
be7<md general expectatJ(Hi. In the eariier part of his life 
he intended to publish aa edition of Sophocles, and the mot* 
tM" which he prepared for that purpose was the residt of bis 
enquiries for many years. It was written in four Toliunes 
octavo, interleaved, and three volumes quarto ; all crowded 
with -observations ; and containing, not only exptaoadons'of 
particular words and phrases, but general remarks on the 
Greek drama ; on the style and metre of- Sophocles, as di»* 
tinguished IVom those of (Sschytus and Euripides; and of 
the causes, progress, and variations of the dialects -employ^ 
by the' Greek tragedians. We hope -this work, whidi occtk" 
pied so much of Dr. Parr's time, mil not be lost to the 
world. Of Dr. Parr's intended publications atiotlier is thus 
described in a letter to MnNichoIs, dated April 16, 1786: — 
" Henry Stephens's ' Treatise on the Dialects' is become 
(fxceedingty scarce and dear; it can W bought only with the 
glossary, and generally costs two guineas. Now, tbe great 
excellence and great utility of this work would, I am confi- 
dent, procure very numerous purchasers, and the re-publica- 
tion of it would be considered as a very high and impbrtaibt 
service to the literary world. In this opinion my learned 
friend Mt*. Burgess concnre, and I have reason to diink that 
Our first luminary in Greek learning, Mr. Person, is of the 
same opinion widi us. - 

■ « -Will you undertake to re-publish it m en octavo form? 
My idea is, that it should be adapted not only to the use of 
scholars, ' but c^ schoolboys, and if you choose to undertake 
die work, I will write a small LaUn preface, to recommend 
Ae pnblteation, and -to expUin the purposes for which- it b 
attempted. Of its rapid and extensive Bale I am myself coh^ 
£clcnt ; and the only diffibulty that ever bung on my mind 
was how to find a judiaous, teamed, and public-spirited 
priiitler? The successor of Mr.' BOwyer is, on all aceouh'ts, 
the fittest'pierstHi to pay this tribute to the leanung and getnus 
of Stephens. 

VOL. X. I. 



**. I iwed Dpt Idl you howneeeasary it is fiir tlw pren to b« 
|B9it cveblly ccnrectod. I am raad; fcr ny own part tv 
revise once j aad I will atlc Mr. Burgess next week, at Oxfi»d; 
to undertake the secmid rerisaL The sheets caa easily bt 
coDw^red by franks, I si^qMue; and if they csb, I hare many 
parliamentary friends oo whose ready assistanca Z ean depend, 
I Aonld suppose that Bumey woiild not re£ue some aid ; aad 
my c^ioa is^ ^at it is better to pje two or three scholars » 
slmre in the business and credit of the work, than to a»diict 
it in the usual way. 

** To-mwrow J go to Oxford ; and I proceed on Satnrd^ 
40 Hatton, in Warwid(ibire, where any letters yon may &voar 
nae with} will readi me. I had diou^ts of procuring aonA 
additions from later critics ; but the work would swell to ao 
ynotnxms buUc 

" I am, Sr, && 

« S. Pabb. 

" If you write while I stay at Oxford, pray direct to roe 
at Professor White's, Wadham Colle^" 

In this letter Dr. Parr's learned ardour, and liberally to- 
wards other scholars are alike displayed. The proposal which 
jie niade was readily accepted : and on the S6th of May, the 
Doctor thus wrote Srosa Hatton ; 

** On recaving your last &vour, which, from the slownesa 
and irr^ularity of village conveyance, did not reach me for 
two or three days i^ler its arrival at Warwick, I wrote to my 
teamed friend Mr. Windham. Ldst night I returned from 
Hinckley, -when I have been visiting s(«ne rations ; I foimd 
there his letter, in which he is so good as to ffy% m all poa- 
fible aeustance. 

** I expect Professor White next we^ to help m« ia pub* 
long up my books. 

** I yet have ordered no papier ; but, as I am a staoaclh 
F(»ute, I moiu to ord^ the English Cbnmiole. 

** I bcnonr your spirit, and shall exvt myself in makiag it 
I(tM>^m to every sdiolar in tUs kingdom by tome meuti of 
other. " S, Pauu" . 



' Anotfasr puUioation vaa tfaua propoGed m a private letter- 
to the condaotor of ** llie Ooptleman'! IifagBzitie,'' da(«d 
December 18, I81S: — 

" MUner, the Roman Catholic^ has published an elabonrt* 
wodk, wfaidi cannot taH of baTing a vaj exteouTc and powMV 
Ad efieot on an; person of fais own reii^on. Ha has p«t' 
ferdi all his strength, and let loose all his voimn. Ameog 
«ther matter, he three times 6B7S that Bisbc^ H«ll£uc tUed s 
Caihiiicy and this you see affords a glorious triumph to the 
^Bofnttn Catbcdics. I ain determined to call him to a public 
account. I h^ve all the matter and paper now lying beforo 
me. If you choose to insert it in your old Magamne; be it so. 
But you will observe, first, that it will occupy twenty^five <Mr 
thirty pa^^; seeondly, that it must not be divided; thirdly*' 
that I must be permittad to revise one proojf-sheet, and to ^vo 
^rectioDS to the printer about italic lines, &c. &c. 

** The whole bench of bishops will have their eye npcHt 
me, and a whole army of Catht^c Pt^emics may fidl upon- 
me. Tliis I regard not. 

*^ If you refuse admission to ao long an artide, I will <^fer 
it to one more periodical puUtcattou, and if it be thought too 
long there, I shall print a pamphlet* and put my name." 

lo a second letter* only five days after, the Doctor <A}< 

** Some bow or other my matter has crowded upon me so 
last, that I mast ^ve vp all thoughts of introdudug it into 
any periodical publication, and, therafore, I shall uudce a pam- 
phlet, and i»njt it at Warwick. There again my vexations 
idMMtt a scribe aro almost iotfJerahle ; I .most sulHuit to tha 
torments of dday )" 

Vrom some causes, hitherto onexplaiBed, this tract never 
^ipeaivd dming Dr. Pair's life. Since his decease, however, tt 
has been pid^^«d by the R«v. John Lynes, the grandson by 
marriage, and one c^ the executors of Dr. Parr. It is called 
^ A- Letter to &e Rev. Dr. Milner, occasioned by some pas- 
sages contained in his Book, oititled ' Hie End of Religious 
Controversy.' By the late Rev. S. Parr, LLJ>." — The 
L S 



pF^ce by Mr.'Lynes, contenns.Gb much matter ioterestn^ ttf 
(tur purpose^ that.we sutgcuathe greater portion of it: — » ' 

" The following letter to the Right Rev; Dr. Joseph Milner, 
was fbnnd among the pi4)ers of the late Rev. Dr. Samod Parr, 
after his decease. In presenting it to the .public, the editor 
disehuns any secret motives to serve imaginary interests, ov 
insinuate his own private opinions on a public question. . . He 
attdcks no^man, or body of men, in putting it to prsss. He b ' 
neither a polemic. nor a politician; and as he is notexotedby 
the zeal of the onev nor by the enthusiasm of the other, so is- 
he not to be det^red by the dread of the hostiUty of either. . A 
sacred trust has been reposed in him by the will and last com- 
mands of his revered and venerable grand&ther, and he entera 
. upon his career of perfbnning it by bringing out this letter ta- 
the first fruits of the deposit, copimitted to his charge. 

" Tlie letter was originally .written for the ' Gentleman's 
Magazme*'; but after-thoughts enlarged its dimensions, and 
other, reasons, unnecessary to detail, prevented its publicatioD 
in that form. The design of publishing it, however, was neves 
abandoned, and three di&rent ct^tes, each left more finished 
than the other-f-, demtmstrate the .author's zeal and bis in- 

- " Inflexible in his love of truth, ardent in the.porsuit of it 
upon bU subjects, never ceasing to inculcate it upon others, and' 
ever most scrupulously adhering to it himself, the, author conld 
not see a statement such as Dr. Milner has sanctioned, witb>' 
out feeling it a duly to the characters thus aspersed, to hi» 
own high sense of justice, and to every ^cere weU->wisher of 
the chvrcb of England, to call upon Dr. Milner for the .pro«& 
of his statements, or a retractation of his assertion. 

- " For so:great a'lover of truUiwas Dr. Parr, that in all he 
has written it seemed to be his chief motive, as in all his ac- 
tions it was the main spring. This feet, so well known to all 

• <■ ^nce thU - vu vritlen, > letter, of whidi I 1^ not beud' befoie, Ji^^ 
appeared in the Genlleman'e Magazine, eipUinuig Dr. Parr'g inlentioni to'Hr. 
IBtholfc— J.L." ' . ' ; 

, t 11m iMwt dau;;u<' Jane 1J19.'' 



^diose -wHo w«re acquainted with hini,~wHI be clearly discernei] 
by any one, who choOses to'examine his vridngs'with attend 
tion and with candour. > 

-■ " Of his derotedness to pwre reli^on, his preaching and 
his writings will be everiasting monuments. Of his attacH' 
ment to the <*urch c£ England in particular, the firfloiJing 
treatise is only one out of a great number of proofs ; and It 
wilt be seen hereafter, that he was not only a faithful follower 
of his Divine Master in his life and in his doctrines, but that 
he did not, as frequently has been asserted, * hide his light 
nnder a bushel, or conceal his talent in a napkin;' norreserA 
for par^ purposes, for dogmaticd discussion, and for mei^ 
dbplay, the inexhaustible stores of his intellect. It has been 
too mtK^ the ^hion to say that Dr. Parr has done little 
-other for the cause of religion or learning, in comparison to 
what he might have done, had he employed his leisure in 
preparing materials, and occupied his mind wholly and solely 
on the completion of some great work on some great subject ; 
«nd ' even some of the molles and delicatali in the world df 
betters venture to exclaim, * What has lie ever done ?* ■ To 
«ud» he might proudly ami justly say. 

Amidst the drudgeries of the occupation of schoolmaster, and 
the sacred-duties of a puish priest— amidst some of the dis- 
tractions of domestic, and some of the perturbations of public 
life,' his loffy mind did find leisure to pour out «; few precioua 
Aeapi ftfxa. the - oopioos ' fountain of bis accomplishments. 
-Even amidst' these 'emburas^nents. Dr. Parr has published 
more than many of those who have been eulof^sed for their 
dil%eiice,-and received the public reward of their learning. > 
** But it is not only in what he has already printed, or what 
tte iaa preached, or what he has written and left for publica^ 
tion; that he has:be^ usefiil to learning and to morals: he 
has b^n the constant and diligent, though "silent, friend Af 
men of letters, even by contributions to many of their pub- 
jications in aH parts pf this great empire. Id Irqiandi' ni 
L 3 



SeotMd, frcHh tHl <|BBtl«Ai Im Utetaiy bounty bm beta 
.^ou^t Uid obUuned; uid perhiqas in Ae «g«, or in any 
country, has there been a scholar equaJfy serriMoble to tJle 
'general taufie of teaming, by bis liberal bad gtscavtis diatri- 
butjons <^ knowledge and instruction. 

'* So much I have tboMght it nec4sftary to a*y, both for tlie 
pUipose of dissipating a prejudice and stating a fafct. The 
worlUi be has already puli^bed, when collected, would pro- 
bably cbnsUtute two quarto Tolumes ; and if what be .has 1^ 
Were to be oU ffV&a to the world, I believs it would comprise 
a ^"eater mass of theok^cal, metaphysical) philological, and 
classical leaming, than has ever yet been published by any 
.one English scholar. 

** This letter to Dr. Miloer, I {efA assured, wffl sufficimtly 
preve^ even to the iHCredtdous, that he was net lokewaim ia 
his zeal for Christianity, Aor fbr the interests erf* that * best 
EstabKsbment of Qiristianity,' as Bishop Hard expresses it^ 
the church of £ngland; that be was not indi&r^it to the 
character of ber prelates and her ministers ; and that he has 
eren tst^pfid forward manfully^ when the infinnities of nature 
were creeping upon him, to tin£cBte ber hraioar. He wa^ 
indeed, a follower of Jesus — be knew in whom . he believed. 
He was, indeed, a minister of the church of England — he 
knew tnAl that the rites and doctzines of tbtit FroteMaAt 
diordh were tlie best ratioiial fouadstioBs of a Christian 
Establishment. For he was a Prottetant after the mumer of 
CUulUngwortb, and it was his constant declaration, — * l^t 
Bible, thb Bible oRlIv a thb uxiaioH or PhotSbtahtaI 
Whatever else they beKero beside it, and the pUtit irrefrag- • 
ittble, bidubit^e, consequences of it, well may Ihey hold k as 
a matter of t^inion. I, for my put, after a long and (as I 
Verily believe md hc^} impahial seu**^ of ibte trUe ttajr to 
ttertuU Aappinesst do profess plainly, that I t»imot,find any 
rest hr the scde of my foot, bat upon this rodt oAly.' GkU' 
Ungtoorth, Tfhxi L c. 6. p. 33S. John Lyn£8. 

" Ehnlejr Lovet^ near Woiceet^, May S9t^ 1825." 



' As a piisof t^ the vigoar of Dr. Parr's style, of whklt tiSa 
able tract affiirds some admirable speeiraais, we extraet die 
foJIowiog passage : — 

" Id what genuine work, which bears the name of Hallifax*, 
or in what respectable publication, which professes to give a 
&ir and wdl-founded account of his &ith and practice, do you 
trace even the slightest vestiges c^ the tiiougbts and the words 
whidi you have ascribed to him ? ReBact, 1 beseech yout 
upon the excruciating and perilous situation in iritidi Dr. 
HalU&x must have been placed, if your narrative, Sb", be 
well-founded, at that mmn^t when hypocrisy, as Dr. Young 
cays, ( drops the mask, and real and i^arent are the same.' 
He, &om want of ccmvictioii, could not find consolation in the 
church of England, and, from want of fortitude, he did not 
seek it in the church of Rome. In a man so accustomed as 
Bishop Halli&z was, to the study of theology, such a change 
of sentiment as you have ascribed to him, couM not be in- 
stantaneous. It was not e^cted by the interposition of any 
wily casuist, (v any proselyte-hunting zealot, who mi^it take 
advantage of those circumstances, which sometimes are found 
in the dealhrcbamber of the most virtuous and the most de- 
vout ; and by such mstances. Sir, I mean fluttering sj^ls, an 
impfured understuiding, a disturbed im^nation, momentary 
(ears succeeded by momentwy hopes, one dim and incoherent 
conception r^idly saaxeded by ani^er, and sentences ftxined 
imperfectly, or uttered indistinctly. No, Sir, the Bishop of 
St. Asaph, according to your own account^ was visited by 
a Protestant Aktropditan. Previously, therefore, to fals dis- 
solution, while afBicted by ddcness and oppressed l^ age, ba 
most have sniKred Dumy a pang from consdous Innnceri^; 

• Dfc^fiMDHl BUtiftor WM Kibop pf St. AMpb. and died in I'rsOk Div. 
Ufloer, w Dr. Pur obmrsi ia his leUer, Ihrt* timet ujs, that tli« \uA9f died, 
■n apoaWe. Tbe principal Terncm of thia tale ia coDtained in the fbllraiag note : 
-Tht ptwnt miter IwlwaitDfertiiadaD good autfaori^aurtsii* of Ibabidwpa, 
wlipae i^Haaniea Me hinquotod, ifben he found huoaelf OB bii death-bad, itflaed 
tbe proffbedmiDiEtryaftliepriniale, and eipreaMd ft great wish to die k Catholic. 
When utged to wUMj hla conidence, be eidaimed, ' Vhat thai vffi beconie tt 
■nj la^ aadnrf <aadnB?'" 



\p& ^V. SAMUEL f ARIU 

and upou the near approach of that diasolutiom be was 
doomed to, breathe his last in a disgraceful and dreadful conr- 
flict between Umidity and piety — between calls upon his 
prudence from the praise of men, and upon his conscience 
from the approbation of God — between the impulses of 
paternal and conjugal affection on one hand, and of self-pre- 
servation on the other — between the opposite and irrecon^ 
cileable interests of time, to his family, and of eternity to his 
own souL - 

" To the primate, who proffered hb ministry, and to the 
bidtop, who, according to your representation, could not avail 
hiniself of it, no appeal can be made, for they are numbered 
amoDg the dead. But the &cts, said to be known by yonr 
unpamed informer, could not be wholly unknown to those 
whp were under the same roof with the expiring prelate. 
Such} I mean. Sir, as personal friends, as near relatives, as 
ch^lains, as domestics, and, perhaps, medical attendants. 
These men, sorely, can bear a direct and decisive tesdmony 
to a plain fact. They must have been deeply impressed by 
such a conversion as yon describe. They must have the 
evidence of their senses, whether or no such conversion ever 
occurred ; and uptm the. supposition that it did not occur, if 
such a host of witnesses be set in array in opposition to your 
anonymous informer, depend upon it, that the sttendon of all 
good men will be strongly attracted by this extraordinary, 
case ; that their best sympathies will be roused, and that their 
decision between the veraci^ of the accuser and the merits of 
the accused, will be ultimately and completely just. Thus &r 
X have expostulated with you. Sir, upon your chaiges against 
a prelate who, having sunk into the grave, cannot defend 
himself and who has been summoned by his Maker to that 
tribunal where his guilt or his innocence cannot be unknown. 

" When such a tale. Sir, as yours, is told to the Protestant 
and Catholic Church — when it is pointed agunst such a man 
as Bishop Halhfex — when it has been three times produced 
by such a writer as !0r. Milner — when it is inserted in a 
work* upoa which you seem to have emfdayed; the whc^a 



gtctagth of your vigorous and yrell^cBltivated mind — when, 
if sufiered to pass without refutation, it nunr expose tlie me* 
mory of a learned English prelate to infiuny among Botnanista 
for cowardice, among Protestaots for t^WBtacy, and among 
both for duplici^ — when that infomy, by the wide circulation 
of a book recomtnetided by your name, inay extend to foreign 
countries, and continue through distant generations ■ — when 
your statement may lead to conseqoences so afflictive to a 
widow and other surviving relatives, and so Arming to every 
enHghtened and conscientious member oi the church of Eng- 
land; awful, iudeed, Sir, must be your re^xmnbili^'unto 
God and unto man, for the truth of your deliberate and 
reiterated assertions, 

*' Pleased I was, reverend ^, with your caution, humility, 
and candour, when you say, ' Far be it from me, and every 
other Catholic, to deal damnation on any person in particular I' 
And surely. Sir, with these praise-worthy qualities aa ex- 
ercised towards your fellow-creatures in the momentous con- 
cerns of a world to come, yon will not ^sdain to blend a wary 
and delicate regard for the character and honouraUe interests 
of individuals in the preset world, where you participate with 
them in the folUbility and infirnoides of our common nature. 

*' Equally pleased, £Sr, I was, with a note to your address 
to Ae v«iy learned and truly exemplary Bishop of St. David's, 
where you say of yourself, ' The writer is &r from d^mti^ 
inerrancy ; but he should despise himself if he knowingly 
puUished any felsehood, or hesitated to retract any one.that 
he was piteved to have Mien into.' 

' '-' Pardon me. Sir, 6x teUing you, unreservedly, that, upon 
th^ present occasion, your character here, and, in some 
measure, your salvation h^'eafler, are interested in youE 
speedy, honest, and earnest endeavours to redeem the pledge, 
which, in the for^ii^ words, you have given to every 
Christian reader of every denomination. It is your bounden 
du^, Sr, to examine strictly, ' and to communicate fully, the 
grounds of tliat probability which led you to believe, and,: 
believing, to, publish, that Bidtop Hallifiut died a Cadiolici i 



/ *' It is your bonnden datyi to unfold all tbe drcBDuUneei 
«( luuBe and credilnlily in that iafarnier, wbcMe authority ygn 
declare to be so good as to warrant yon ia t^u^ a PFotestant 
pnUic^ that a Protestant BisIk^, and a distingoidied advocate 
of Protestantisin, * when be found himself upon bis deadi-bedt 
Mfbsed the profiered rainistiy of the primate, expressed a 
great wi^ to die a Catholic ; and that, bmg urged to satisfy 
liis consdeooe, he exclaimed, — what, then, will become of 
my lady and my children ? 

*' It is your bonnden dn^, without the smaHeat reserrationf 
and in the most uneqoivocal terms, to ex[dun tbe nature and 
extent of those reasons which you thought sufficient to justify 
you in affirming, that a late Warburtonian Lecturer (Bishop 
Halli&x), upon his death-bed, lamented that he could not, 
tike Luther, threaten to unsay all that he had said agwnst the 
^ope; like Melancthon, lament that Prote^ants bad renounced 
him ; or like a Beza, was unatde to negotiate, not, indeed* 
for returning to the pope, but fen- announcing to him tfae coa- 
versitm of an English Bist)op to the churdi of Rome." 

Dr. Milner having, in the same work, attacked the present 
venerable Dean of Winchester, whooL he calls the second 
Lather, and of whose sincerity in his prttfession of Protestant 
principles he ventnrea to insinuate a doubt. Dr. Parr notices 
these passages with indignant conten^t, and etys, in iangoagc 
extremely pointed : — 

" Dr. Milner, I have not presumed to bold you up to the 
scorn and aUiorrenoe of Protestants, dch- to let loose i^oa 
you the hideous appellations of lugoted omtroTertis^ &l«fier« 
calumniator, Jncendiaryj pecsecntOK, a. modem Bmner, and 
an English Malagrida. I hare treated yoa. Sir, with the 
courtesy whh^ is due to a Roman Catholic dignitary^ wb« 
professes to teach the rdiffiaa o£ a meek, lowly, uid b^^ 
volent Redeemer ; to bare received* in a spedid manner, his 
legitimate ordination snd divine mission in a dirai^ snccession 
from tbe aposti^ age ; and to plead the cause of that only 
true church, wliich exclusively lays daim to unity, to sanctityi 
to catholicity, to gTcafarficity, and u» the vi^ie protecUoa nf 



the Oninipctoi^ in b series of Diiraculdat'iblimpondoiiB, voacb^ 
tafed for die illustration of that churcli, through the long 
^tace of aght«en ctnturics. But if the Eoglisfa ecdesknio^ 
whose private conversation you have confessedly divulged) 
thould, in reality, not be the oontec^tible and execrable mis- 
creant wbidi a modem Luther^ according to your delioeataoii 
<^ bis prototype! must be, then. Sir, I leave it with yminelF 
to find a pn^>er name for that writer, who, in the ninateenth 
century, and in a civilized country, should present to hit 
readers, Catholic or Protestant such a portraiture as you 
have exhibited of aacfa an ecclesiastic as Dr. RenndL" 

One of the most material of the Doctoi'x intended h^Mttint 
was a memoir announced in a letter to the conductor of the 
Gendeman's Magazine, bearing the date of May 7, 1814: — 

" My enlightened and sound-hearted friend ; I much thank 
you for sending me the ** History of Boswnth Field," and 
for adding by an eighth volume, to the entertaining, in- 
Mnictive, and Interes^g information which I T«c«ved &011I 
the former parts of Uie work. * All scholars, all men of 
sdence, all lovws of llicir country, and all admirers of inteU 
kcftual and moral excellence^ owe the tribute of their praue 
tb your diligence, judgment impartiality, and cradoor, in 
Kich an undertaking. 

** I hope that you mean to find a place for Robert &mmer, 
tht master of Sir William Jones and myown, at Harrow, the 
&iend of Sanmd Johnson, and a man whose erudition, taste, 
and sagacity, have long induced me to rank him among the 
oAiameBtB d our literature. He publi^ed only one ■ertnm, 
whidi in point of L^nhy eqoala ai^ composition tiomthe 
p^ of any one of our csonntiyiDen in die last century. I on 
fumidi you with some m^erials. 

<< I am ^ad to find that yon hove engraved die View of the 
Cathedrals ^ and I tdioald be transported with joy, if, fbr the 
honour of the Protestant cause and of the established dmrchj 
the parliament would vote twenty millions fbr erecting a 

* Nicholi'i Liteni? Anecdotei. 

t nngraund-plaaaftbeMTCnUraatniii^lnEui^a. 


156 KBv. SAMUEL parr: 

sacied .edifice which in magnitade and grandeur should 
surpass' St. Peter's ! Though an obscure country parson, I 
should contribute two or three hundred pounds on such an 

" E^nton tells me, that before Whitsunday he will send 
me three pamted -windows for the east end of the chancel *, 
and my anxious hope Is, diat before the end of the year, he 
■rill complete what remdns to be done for tbe south and north 

That Dr. Parr was heartily engaged in the undertaking 
alluded to, wiU. appear by the following extracts frun his 
^miliar lett^s to the same correspondent:-^ - 

" Hatton, Oct. 14., 1814.; 
*' My enlightened, truly-honest, and much respected 
- " Though recoverii^ slowly from a dangerous carbuncle in 
tny left arm, .and afflicted sorely with inflammation and 
tumour from a violent erysipelas, which torments me day and 
night, I am anxious to answer your sensible letter. - Brianj 
the. master -of Harrow, was n .f^low of King's College, and is 
n0t^ the same per^m by whom Plutarch was edited, i think 
that the editor was of Oxford, and his name was spelt with a 
j«, whereas the Harrow Brian usedani: and this Iknow, 
because I was very well acquainted widi his widow, and his 
very ingenious daughter. The Oiristian name of the editor 
is i^litgtatuSi and that of the Harrow master was T^omasi — 
)tod this yety nunning I had occasion to write to Lord Nordi- 
wick,. a:govemor of Harrow school, and also to Dr.> Butler; 
tM jnaster, in order to obtain some, intelligence about the 
succession of masters from Brian to Buder. I am waidog, 
also, fiw informiation firom a friend who lives near Eton, and 
whom I have commissioned to examine the parochial renter 
pf WisdsOT, and to obtnn leave from the Provost of Eton 

■ Of Hstloa church, of vbicfi at Dr. Farr'a decease tcarcel; a windmr t^ 
nuaed unadonied bj stained glas*. B^nbni's first worlu dicre were, tin Cnu 
"iSxion St. TMct tnd St. Faol ; AnMiktiops CnuiineraudXill<iUob,&& 



for. inspecting the college books upon' dates and . other ipat- 
ticutars, which I mean to aseertain with precbJoit. I intend 
to give myself nuher a wide scope, and shall introduce E<Hne 
matter about the Masters of Eton school : and the men of 
Eton are. aware of my intention. Mr. Nichols I I detest the 
jealous and censorious spirit of scholars towards, eadi other, 
and I am sure that my mind is. in harmony with your own, 
when I t^e an of^rtunity of doing justice to some oninent 
teachers in the school where my beloved instructbrs TbaO' 
keray and Siunoer were edaciUed. As the artide will be 
known to come from me, I shall endeavour to make it inter- 
esting to our learned countrymen, and having before me, afr> 
models, your two most excellent books about Bow^r, I ^lall 
now. and then introduce a little criticism. The whole sidiyeet 
is before me, and I have thrown upon p^>er a great number, 
(rf* notices. The Bishop of Gloucester, Dr.Gabd, the Master 
of .WinchestCT',, the Provost of King's, and the Masters of 
Eton and Haitow, are apprised of my intention. The nar- 
ration cannot be very lon^ for the life of Sumner was hot 
largely fraught with incidents; but it. will surest a variety of 
matter, which in .all piobtdnli^ will do.nodiscredit toyour 
Work ; an^ the men of Eton will be pleased with the attention 
which J-09 and I pay to them. I assure you, my friend, that 
in the way of inquiry I have been compelled to make many 
appUcatk^is iu many quarters. . Give me leave to ask whether 
I may be permitted to speak in my own person : you rnifit 
determine this. My present obliging scribe has made ^me 
S4Hne extracts from Sir William Jones, X)T.'Middletm,tDr.: 
Bar&rd, and Bishop Hare. At this moment I am expect>«^ 
from Linc<^nShire an answer to soine queries about an. epi'^i 
tafh ill that part of.the w(»'td. And perh^s I diallibe Able 
to tra^ plagiarism in two instances, ■ — YoU, as a Tcay, Junst 
venerate Andrew Snape i i have found one copy of his ver3^^ 
and three of his sermons; Though a Whi^ 1 love and: t 
revere the memory of Sni^pf ; and vexed I am at not Imvii^ 
be^i, aUe to meet with the two or three viJumes of his .Seiw 
m<His ; bat I have enou^ before me to justify me in f4)plaud'> 


158 SET. SAMUra. PARS. 

u^ him. There b in Mm. Fiozm's Memoir of Johiuon Bone 
■ocountof what passed between him and Robert Somner, 
about the custom <^ appointiDg tasks to boys in the holidays, 
and I must, from direct experience^ o[^>ose Sumner's practicfr 
to ibt coDce8si<Nis which he seems to hare made to Johnson. 
At preaoit I have to lament not only the want c£ health, bat 
the want of ao amannenais ; for Edmnnd Barker is att^uling 
to his oonjogal duties ; bat he eomes to me in January, and 
ia his last letter he pranaaea to aid me with bis pen in the 
articla of Sanmtf. I have somedimg to say about Exlwaid 
Barnard, whose talent for composition was not of a high- 
wder, bat for scanty praiae to him we shall make ample coot- 
pensatioQ by doing justice to his predecessors. And we sh^l 
tdl some of our conlenqxiraries soma tales which they may 
have nerer heard. 

' " My fiieod, I have had the good fortune to meet the only 
writing which Thackeray, the predecessor of Sumner, ever 
sent to the press; and lam in possession also of every sylkUe 
lAjch Sumner himself ever printed. 
! ** I am, dear Mr. N., 
/ ** Your sincere weU-wisho*, 

** and veiy respectfol humble servant 

« & Parr." 

Hiat Dr. Parr's intelligrait fiiend, Mr. Barker, was sotm at 
his post, appears by a letter of his, da^edJanuuy SS, 1816: — ^ 

** January iS. To-morrow I set od^ for Dr. Parr's houses 
and there I shall lonain for several we^ ; and I h<^ to be 
the Doctor's ananueosis for the ' Li& of Dr. Sumner.* 
Otpi excellent friend is quite recovoed froai his illness." 

In a letter datcid Hhtton, April S6, Mr. Barker says : — 

*' I am in great hqtes that our exceUeot friend Dr. Parr 
mO make a capital book of &e ' Life of Dr. Sumner;' — 
I am to be his emanuensLs; and he begins in earnest next 
McHiday. He is in good hedth, and his ^irits are excdlen^ 
when tiffiyare not distm-bed by angry political dscussion." 



Again, cm tbe 3€tb of July, Mr. fiarlKr mil«3 Iroin 'Wliit- 
church : — 

" I rejtHce to (ell you that Ifr. Parr hu made very con- 
udeniUe pn^ress in the * Life of Dr. Sumner.' You begged 
me to tell him ntA to spare pages, and I an afrtud tbet vben 
you come to see the immense extent of the inn'k, you will 
amile at yoarsdf fi» charging me with the comnnssion. How- 
ever, I can assure yon, tliat it will be a most interesting and 
enrious work. It en^mwea not merely a sketiji o£ Sumncr'B 
lif^ but very many particulars respecting the masters of £toR 
and Etonian scholars. The Doctor has thrown into it a great 
qoaatity of criticism upon little errors in the I^atini^ of mo- 
dem writers of verse and prose ; and he baa not &iled to in- 
trodooe Us opinions upon nntny controTerted passages m 
Horace, and other dasacol authors. He has made the boot; 
nq^ate with information and learnings and I am no prophet^ 
if I am mistaken in supposing tbtU it will meet with a tspid 
and extensive sale. As it will be t^ itself a bot^ of aome 
magnitude, -perh^s it will be tix best jdan to let it form hy 
itself an additional volume to the 'Xitra^iy Anecdotes,' and 
while ^M press is s^ to strike off three or four hundred 
ct^Hes, to be sold separately with a separate .title-page. But, 
as Dr. PiUT writes the book for a continuation of the ** Lite- 
Rfty Anecdotes^" he might not altogedier approre of its being 
sM aapaaraUiy, and so, p^^ps, you had better not consult 
him about the mattra, but take it for granted that, as he has 
^Ten the book io you, you are at liberty to pursue such mea- 
jforee, as will give you the best chanee of being remnaerated 
for tlie ecqiences of printing and puUishing. I foar that <hi sc- 
tountof eorrig^idaand addenda, you will be under the neeesn^ 
of sendii^ the proo& to be inspected by me, who have so long' 
been the Doctor's amanuensis, and am so occustoaied to his 
int^meatioDs, &c I did all I could to finish the work be- 
fore I Ibft Hatttm, for llietford, in Norfolk ; «^ere I sh^ be- 
by the 1st of Augu9t, and where I shidl remmn for sevend' 
months, but we could not get it finished, llie Doetw expeCte- 
to have it completed in about a month.'! 


160 R&V. SAHtlGt. PARRt 

' OndieTUic/Jaiiaarjr, 1816, theDoctorsnys: — 

** I faare not lost sight of the * Memoirs of Dr. SutUner/ 
— were you in my upper book-room, you would see at this 
moment more than forty books on the floor. While Mr. 
Backer was with me, he made copious extracts. He left me 
fire months ago, and no other pn^p'ess has been made than 
in the collection of a few additional materials. I have had 
oonrespondenoe with the men of Eton, and hare much to say 
about Etonian scholars and their masters. The critical matter 
will be niore copious than the historical. I have been urged 
to make it a separate work — no — no, no — it shall go to John* 
Nichols, it ikaUy — beudes, in this form it will be a matt ^ptx- 
manoit record. I am not pleased with Hardinge's pan^yric 
«p<m Barnard, nor with his censures upon John Foster.' I 
Bud m your inestimable work more useful matter. I have no 
other trouble befoi'e me, but dieting a few plain s^itoices, 
and putting together the massy materials already brought to- 
gether, and already examined. I write what no printer can 
read. My last work was in seven different h^ds, and I shall 
bequeath the MS. to a college library, for a [»w>r of the insu- 
perable and almost incredible obstacles that hinder me from 
publishing. As to reading, and even revising, I am constandj 
employed. Two of my best auxiliarjee are dead; a third 

lives at ~ , and we are not (»i our former terms of 

fnendship ; the fourth, who helped me most lai^y in the 
rou^ draft for Sumner, is now at Thetford, and finds bis 
whole time occupied by Henry Stephens's * Thesaurus.' 
Still I shall endeavour to get one person to help me. He ia 
a good scholar, and an old friiend, but from long disuse be' 
CBimot do justice to his own talents.* My friend, I am fer. 
more anxious than you can b^ to get this busiaess off my 
i^irits; and the more so, as my intentions are known at' 
Eton,; Harrow, Winchester, and both Universities, and much 
curiosi^ is exdted. Oh, that I could finish this work'^abo^t 
Sumner I Books, letters, thoughts, and materials are ' all 
toady, but where is to be found the scribe? I will do my' 
• He BtT. John BwtlMn. 



utmost, even for my own sake, for I am pledged not only to 
you, but to many of my honoured contemporaries. With 
unfeigned respect and regard 

" I am, dear Sir, your Iriend, 

« S. Pake." 

Again, March 17: 

" Dear and much respected Mr. N. 

•* I thank you for your letter. I hope in a day or two to 
find a scribe who will aid me in answering it. You would 
smile if you saw the eagerness with which I open your letters. 
You are an honest constitutional tory,'and I really cannot 
name the writer to whom scholars and men of research are 
so much indebted for useful and curious information, as your- 
self. I have a promise of help in the summer. I have laid 
my papers and a mass of books in my upper library, and I 
am most anxious to finish what I intend. All I want is an 
amanuensis. The matter is ready, and as to language it will 
cost me no trouble, for I shall use the very plainest. This 
week I have found two focts, upon emendations of cri- 
Ucal writers, unknown to me before. The critic was An- 
drew Snape, whom I love and venerate, though in politics 
and theology we should not have quite agreed. He was a 
thorough scholar, and a thorough Christian. Remember me 
to all your &mi1y, that is, add my best wishes and my best 

*' I am, sincerelyj your fi-iend, 

" S. Parr." 

Once more, Jan. 10, I8I7: 
" Dear Sir, 
^ " Amidst the bustle and the .vexations of very important 
business, I am anxious to acknowledge your kind and warm- 
hearted letter, and to thank you for the very acceptable pre- 
sent with which you have honoured me. ^I have always 
thought with respect of Mr. Hardinge's vivacity, taste, and 
fondness for classical erudition ; and from those who had the 
good fortune to be acqmunted with him, I have again and 
again heard that he was a most kind-hearted and honourable 

VOL. X. M 


puu^ and» therefore, griMt and imfergned is toy deligfat to find 
diat I have Bome sban of his esteem ; — pennit ^e to assure 
you, that his Life of Dr. Davies has not lessened the opioioq 
whidi I have lopg hod of bis ardour in Imndship, and his ha- 
bitaal sympatfay with the very best feelings of enlightened and 
virtuous men. The whole heart of Dr. Davies is'taid open by 
his bi<^pi^her. 

*' I am pleased both with the Latin aod the English vcxses^ 
and x^<} air of singuUrity vh>.ch runs through the l;etter$ 19 
not oply agreeable, but i^iteresting. He was aa Etonian of 
the pl^ ^09)1 ^o4 there is no man livfug who has a livelier 
^oi^k:^!} th^ 1 b4T;e in Ifea^ipg oud teofling the stories of 

" Pnc^ only Mr. Uai^ioge displea^ me* and with per- 
fect good bupnour ^d gppd manners I have recorded my 
f^^s^L (^ commendatiws qf Dr. Bamutl are extras 
yagan^ Bf^ not ^ways well-founded. But my chief dissatis- 
fectjon arose froin his censure of Dn John Foster, who w«^ 
bql^ a, gn^fpun^ sctiofar, and a truly honest man. I hare 
not the sjnallest doubt upon the merits of the conjectural 
reading ii^ Horac^ and you will ^ve me leave to add, that 
^r. Sawyer's old and learqed firiend Dr. Taylor has comr 
|]|il^cated anfilhei^ most happy conjecture upon another pas" 
sage, Spt vhici\ we ar^ indebted to Hantinge. ^ gre^t 
foreign scholar, who does not seem to have read Taylor's, 
Elements of Civil Law, proposed the same emendation, and 
supported it by some of the passages which Taylor adduced. 
Can you tell me where I can obtaiq the volume of La|in 
poems which Mr. Hardinge's father wrote, and to which the 
son adverts in your inesdmableeollei^tica^?' From scholars 
who are no more, I iq my eas;^ yojith hare met with much in- 
structive and m^ch delightful i;iifi;irmatiDn .a^ut,Mr, Hanlinge^ 
the Fellow of Icing's,, and if your friend bad ever honp^redjft^ 
^ith a visit at my pa^sonfl^ we sboul^ h^ve passe^: days, 
^d ni^^ nfithout tofy languor in our conversance 

*• Pepend upop it, tb^t I shall insert, ip the booJf; w^ich 

you ^ve me such a kind of memorial as wouh^ not b^un-r 



ia:v. SAUUQL parr. l6i 

satiGuftorj' to yoarsetf 6f the bic^rapher oF Dr. 2%vie£ 
Yesterday I ooosulted with my solicitor about some correc- 
tifffis in my will, arid the learned person who now writes Tor 
me will bear witness to ^e al&ctionide and honourable mei^ 
don which I have made of you, wh«« I bequeath to you i 
foouming rifig. The same person knows that between two 
M diree hnndred folio pt^es are now lying in my library, and 
mast continue to lie dierej till I cart get a diligent and faithfiil 
scribe. The floor of my upp^ library is cov^^ with books to 
which E B^ost have fecouree ; and I am su[% that with the 
raaterials which I have collected, ^td with ray halnts of r^id 
eompositioA, I could in six or seven days complete my Me- 
moirs of R(^rf Sumlier. I should suppose that seren^ c^ 
(qgh^ additional pages i^ould be sufficient. Alas ! I am at i( 
dead stand ! I ^all inter^reave something not un&vourdle td 
the i^mory of George Harding^ He that writes kr me bad 
often heard me say, that friHn yoar two quarto vfdumes about 
Mr. Bowyer, your curious and copious c(»nmunicati(H)s to 
die Crentlemail's Mt^aztne, and ^xire alt, from dmt noblest 
of your Works, the Literary Anecdotes, you have rendered 
more important . servit^ to the cause of learning in this 
codOtry, and M th6 learned men of «i4iOih it boasts, than an^ 
writer no«' livii^. May Heaven tengtben yoor life, and 
grant you health, prosperity, fame, and every other biasing 
whidi cad sweeten it. Rememb^ me kindly and respectfiilly 
to aH your children, and dieir relations, and beHeve m^ 
dear Mr. Nit^wts, with unte^ned regard and reelect, youi' 
fiiend and'obedielit servant,- 

** Samijel Parr." 

It is to be hoped that these rich materials rae among 6iose 
wliieh, as we hiave already stated, are at present arrsnginj^ 
fbr pt^cationw 

P^baps the reader may wish to know in wlua montier Dr. 

Parr condacted- bis instructions from the pidpit. He wrote 

many of his sermons ; but in Middlesex, at Colchester, and 

lUt Iilorwich, be ofiea' {Hreadied extonpore': and itmiut'bcf 

M 2 

I., .. I., Google 


, unnecessary to say, ihM. the ardour of his temper, the fullness 
of his knowledge, and the strength of his understandio^ 
always readily supplied bim with matter pertinent, fomble, 
and abundant. He preached without any preparation whatso- 
ever, and his custom was to select his subject trom that which 
struck him in the lessons, epistle and gospel, cv psalms of the 
day. There was always method in these extetnporaneous 
efiEusions. They were frequently accompanied with critical 
remarks; and they were -delivered with an eainestn,ess of 
nmnner, and a correctness and vigour of diction, most in- 
teresting to the hearers, and equal to the highest expectations 
which could be fcmned of his powers, even ' by men most 
prejudiced in his fevour, and most accustomed to his con- 
versation. At Hatton be generally took up a sermon written 
by Clarke, Balguy, or Jortin, or by some other dislioguisbed 
divine of the Established Church. But his own observations 
were always introduced; and from the peculiarity of his 
thinking and his style, the difference was easily discerned 
by an intelligent hearer. Such, indeed, were his readiness 
and copiousness, that of sermons which continued for half 
an hour or forty minutes, the parts which he merely read 
occupied scarcely five or sue pages. He has been heard to 
attribute this talent partly to the habit whiph he had formed, 
when a young man, of speaking with the late Sir William 
Jones and the late Bishop of Cloyne, in a fictitious character, 
upon various subjects of history, ethics, and . politics ; and 
partly to the necessity which had been imposed upon him (^ 
commuoicadng oral instruction in his schools. The .same 
talent oRen appeared with great lustre, when he threw out bis 
thoughts upon any intricate and important topic in the pre- 
soioe of bis friends. 

. His views were most comprehensive, hb arguments most 
acute; his diction was correct without stiffness, and his ima- 
gery splendid without glare. It was the vulgar notion of 
those who did not know Dr. Farr, that his information was 
confined to the structure of sentences, Uie etymology of 
words, the import of particles, and the. quantity of syllables. 

Pcizscii/Googic . 

hev. SAMUEL pare: 16S 

Birt thoise who intimately knew and appreciated bis singular 
mental acquirement, were struck alike with tbeir variety and 
with their dejith. In classical erudition he was without a 
rival, and was one of the few surviving devotees of the old 
school of learning. His knowledge of ecclesiastical history, 
particularly as connected with the church history of Britain, 
was most extraordinary : all the minute and illustrative fectS 
connected with the liturgies, forms, doctrines, and creeds of 
tile establishment, were most accurately known to him. As 
be idolized the memories of those who had &llen martyrs in 
the cause of political truth, so, in his own words, he ** loved' 
to soar in the regions of religious liberty." His religious 
sentiments were formed on the most mature reflection, the 
most accurate balance of evidence, the most extensive, bold, 
and impartial results. There were no doubts he dared not in- 
vestigate, no difficulties he did not grapple with. But although 
there was no polemical question which he did not analyze, 
yet he entertained the most profound contempt for established 
bigotry, and sectarian dogmatism. Above all, he early dis- 
covered the limitation of the human understanding; the folly - 
of diving^ after hidden knowledge. To use his own quotation 
from Johnson, ** by the solicitous examination of objections, 
and judicious comparisons of opposite arguments, he attuned* 
what inquiry never gives but to industry, and perspicuity, ^— 
a firm and unshaken settlement of conviction; but his firm-' 
ness was without asperity, for knowing with how much dif- 
ficult truth was sometimes found, he did not wonder that 
many missed it" 

Dr. Parr was extensively read in history and legisl^on, ' 
and was wdl acquwnted with what are called the constitu- ' 
tional writers. His character as a politician was most manly 
and consistent. His own words, in the contrast of the cha- ' 
racters of Warburton and Hurd, may be applied to himself; ' 
*' he never thought it expedient to expiate the artless and ' 
animsted. efliisions of his youtfa by the example of a tempo- 
rising and obsequious old age ; he began not his course, as 
others have donc^ ' with speculative republicanism ; nor did he- ' 

H 3 



.end it, as tli« s&tns persons are tiov doiiig, with practical 
toryism." It has alreac^ af^ieared, that he was indebted 
for all his preferment to the affection pf private frwndB ; for 
though he was animated by an ai-dent but liberal and en- 
lightened attacliment to our Civil and Ecclesiastical C<hi- 
Btitution> though he was distinguished by ui^>aralleled learn- 
ing) gigantic strength ^ intellect the most unblemished 
morels. Christian humility, and prcrfbund unai&cted piety,—, 
he was never patrcHiised by the government of his country. 
This is 4 circunistance which many will perhaps consider 
explained by the passage in hb Character of Mr. Fox, in 
which Dr. Parr truly states of himself, that, " from h» 
youth upward, he never deserted a private friend, or vicJated 
8 pubhc principle ; that he was the slave of no patron, and 
the drudge of no party ; that he formed his pcditical opinions 
ifithout the smallest regard, and acted upon them with an. 
utter disrc^|;ard, to personal emoluments, and professional 
honours." He adds (what his fiiends must rejoice to re- 
collect was the truth), " that although for many and the best 
years of his lif^ he endured very irksonie toil, and suffered 
Tery galUng need, he eventually united a competent fortune . 
with 80 ind^^dent spbit; and that, looking back to this 
life and onward to another, he possessed that inward peace 
of mind which the world can neither ^ve nor take away." 
Nor will this be wondered at by those who know that his, 
long residence at Hatton was spent by him in diligently 
peifonning e^ the duties of a parish priest; in assisting, ad* 
vising, and befriending the poor; in the exencise of a- ge- 
nerous hoi^itality ; in encouraging and pa^nising merit ; in 
communicating knowledge whenever required, &019 his own.: 
ioexhi^istible stores; in co^tribulin^i^ by a, mqst e^tensivf; 
coireGpoi^dence, to the genial illumination of the literary 
world ; in inanifesting by his words and deeds, that he cul- 
tivated a ^rtt of unbounded pliilantbropy, as the; pmctical 
essence of our holy religion ; and in endeavours to promote 
ihun the pulpit and by the press, whatever is most cpnduciye 
to the gubUc and private w^Usre of mankind. 



So «lrefii! & guarfflan cHef the <Iocfot prove of the dMfereiit 
bequests belonging to the poor of his 'parish fit Hattbii, diat 
one of them has heen tripled, after having beftn recovered 
froni thirty-^six years' loss. Another is made to produce 
clothes for the poor hi two township's,* nearly ih a threefold 
proportion. Ahotherj left for Hie decoration of the church, ' 
has been rescoed from an inferior class of trustees, who 
fermerly misapplied the revenue ; and thfe revenae itself is' 
increased in valuer as welt as employed td the purpose foi* 
'ffhich it Was originaHy designed. 

The doctor was as Stton^y attached to a pipe as the learn-' 
ed Dr. Isaac Barrow is said to have been. Wherever he went 
to dine he was indulged with his &vourite ^hiff. He vtas' 
ODcie invited to dinner by a gentleman whose wife, a fiBe lady, 
bad on intense aversion to smoking, and the fiJIowing story 
ik told of the occasion;^ — The husband, on his return — 
*' My dear,' whom do you think I met in ihe street just now, 
afid mvited to dine with us to-morrow ? " ''I cannot s&y, 
riiy love, unless yoO tell ine."* " Dr. Parr." " Very w^ll,' 
love ; you know I am always happy to see your friends at our 
t^iAe." ** You are very Kindi my dear wi^' but I must' 
T^etiSoti 6ne thiiig ; the doctor,' wherever he goes,- is indulged' 
with' a" p^" " Indeed, my dear ! then I have only tfiis to' 
stty,' he' sh^ not hive that induTgence here; no gentle^ 
inlBn shall smoke a pipfe ih ihy d^wing-fbom." The hils- 
Iwnd perceived the case wai lost,- and, fike a wise maii^' 
dropped fhestAject On the morrow the d'octor came, and' 
a' select parly met him. After a sumptuous dinner, drey 
retired Vo thb draiWing-roOiM'. Th^ doctor hegfia to ftiel 
certain ctavings fot the sUAiilaGng fumes' of his beloved ' 
pifver hA tried to catch Uie eye of his hosC, but t^ was" 
constantly averted. Th6 lady of tfie house Was' ontfid^"' 
vive^ she ^at6hed bo& her huSbtind and the doctor. At 
length d)^ reve^d gentlemitn grew impatient; he kddr^sied 
himself in s H&lf whisp^ tbliis fHend : the word '^ pipe" Cadght - '' 

* HsItoD is divided into Ibree distinct towndiipi i each of whicli providM fin 



the ear of madam, wfao immediatdy took Dpon herself to 
answer fw ter husband. Lady ; •' Dr. Parr, I hope you* 
will excuse what I am g^Hog to say, hut I cannot penuit 
smoking in my drawing-room." Doctor: " And why not, 
madam ? I have smoked a pipe with my king, and it surely 
can be no ofEence or disgrace to a subject to permit me the 
like indulgence ! " Lady : " Notwithstanding that, Sir, I never 
will allow my drawing-room to be de£led with the nauseous 
smoke of tobacco. I have ordered a room below to be pre- 
pared for any gentlemen who wish to Indulge in that di»- 
agreeable habit." Doctor : " Madam — — " Lady, quickly : 

"Sir." Doctor: " Madam, you are ." Lady: "Ibe^ 

Sir,, you will not express any rudeness ! " The doctor, 
raising his voice: " Madam, you are the greatest tobacco 
ttopper in England" This sally caused a loud laugh at the' 
expense of tlie lady, and though the doctor had not the 
pleasure of bis pipe, be enjoyed the eSect of his wit 

Soon after the execution at Maidstone, in 1798, of 
O'Coiglfiy, the Irish priest, for high-treason. Dr. Parr^ 
happened to be in company with a gentleman, a native of 
Scotland, who has since acquired considerable celebrity, both 
<m the bench and in the house of commons, but who was then 
only a young barrister, and was suspected of more than a cKs- 
poaildon to desert whiggism, of which he had been the warm, 
advocate, for the politics of the administration of that day. 
In the courte of conversation, this gentleman observed, that' 
O'Coigley richly deserved his iate, for that it was impossible- 
to conceive a greater scoundreh " By no means. Sir," said 
Dr. Parr ; " it is possible to conceive a much greater scouQ- - 
drel. He was an Irishman, he might have been a Scotch- 
man ; — he was a priest, h« might have been a lawy^ ; — he 
was a traitor, he might have been an apostate I " 

In Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine lor Nov. 1825, there 
is a very characteristic and amusing sketch of the highly- 
gifted subject of thb memoir, under the tide of '* Two Days ' 
with Dr. Parr," the greater part of which we take the hberty 
of suligoimng : — 



" When I read the epitaph which the late Dr. Parr selected- 
fbr his toDibstone — * What doth the Lord thy God require 
of thee, but to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly 
with thy God,' I smiled, and thought how many a man who 
in company had felt the weight of his rebuke, or, as a friend 
of mine once expressed it, had been gored by him, would say,' 
that however he might have walked with God, he did not 
walk very humbly with men ; and yet what I saw of him, led 
me to believe that when he was not displeased by the conceit, 
or folly, or something which really deserved castigation in' 
those with whom he conversed, he was singularly condescend- 
ing and Mnd — noticing and taking interest in persons of the 
humblest capacity, who had no other claim to his attention 
than a humble and virtuous mind. He had been so long a 
schoolmaster, that when he ceased to be so, be carried his 
manners and habits from the school-room to the dinner-table, 
criticizing, rebuking, or applauding mankind, as he had for- 
merly done his scholars^ and his great learning, his various 
knowledge, his conversational eloquence, and latterly, his vene- 
rable age and appearance, gave him a claim to this power which 
was seldom resisted. No man of his age, excepting Dr. 
Johnson, has said so many things in conversation which have 
been thought worth remembering and repeating, and which 
have borne the repetition so well. Of course they lose in the" 
relation — none can enjoy them so much as those who knew 
him, and who, when they are told what he said, can foicy the 
manner which accompanied it; but this applies to all oral 
discourse. What he said, was so much set off by his viva- 
city, his lire, and a kind of pompous dignity, which would 
have been absurd in anybody else, but which harmonized with 
his age, his wrinkles, and his wig, that, when it is repeated, 
and all these personal embelUshments have evaporated, what 
remains gives an inadequate notion of the effect which it pro- 
duced : the dead thought has only a &int resemblance to the 
living discourse; as Lord Erskme has well expressed it in his 
introduction to Mr. Fox's speeches, there is as much diifer- 
eoce between the r^ort of a speech and the speedy itself as 


170 B&9t ^aUu^L tAM. 

tfadwls IXltweefi a bast ab4 thie Uv&ig o^I^'nal; < t&e fire <^ 
the fl^ It losl ki tbe tflatfbleij lirid those lips are cold an4 
siloQt wbid) were the felmtdu t>f bb &be/ As *e cannot 
)iAv« the origin^, let us bttti^ tbelittsti 

** When Bf. P&rr was in Ldniioti & few jeara ago, (it #d» 
tire last tinte la his life^) he dkied at the house of a friend of 
Oiitie^ and 1 wAs Invited to nkeet him. As I bad utter seof 
biaa before^ I Wds j^ of tlife opportimitj^j raid went witb 
utifitshieitalde piitietiialiE^' At the honr appointed fiw dimier.- 
Tha paf^ had idread^ itsseAibied, excepting the doctor; 
preseady a carpifige dtote tip to the dobr, itnd diere was a 
bustle atid tfttklilg in &tc kdW whilst he was changing bis coat 
Aid wig, the latfe^ of *hi^j whaiever Be went into company, 
he b^OHgbt ttf seni iH * ban^boit, tliat it might not be dis- 
composed by his hat; tt fenglli' the servailt Enounced Dr. 
Part*' Those who nevtt bare, and now never are to See faimi 
(I write not- merely fei' Ae present generation^ but for those' 
who wHI li^e » century hence^ for Bladcwood will be read 
tJien,) Blast fency an old mim visibly above seven^, of mid-' 
itiiog begfat and bulk— ^hi a^andsome Aill-bcrttomed wi^ 
fi^G^Iy powder^j a clerical octet, of the cut of half & century 
tfgoj appareftdy of v*!?^*^ ai silfe aproti, and large silver 
bacties in his shoesj you would have said that he was old- 
leoking for seven^, as fdr at leaif ss wribkles Were concerned, 
bat a- r^desft, somewhat bustling manner, and a quick speech, 
showed thrf age had not quenched the activity and ertergy of 
his Tbind — he had a grey lack-lnstre eye, and yet it had an 
expression of vivacity, of gted Kumour, and cdlen' of fun^ 
Whidl showed how much' more these' appearances depend on 
the posture of diJs'oi^ilh, thaiii tfti tlie brilliance of its surfefie. 
He talked fiuendy. Hay glibly, but; ttota a lisp in bis ^eeth, 
which I behevd Be always had, and now, from the loss of 
hi^ tee^^ it Was- often ditidolt, or impossible, td Catch' what 
hie said; 

" When we dfestended to the dinirig-roohi, f Was fortunate 
enough to find myself seated' next h!m. The parq? was not 
snuiU. Duringthe dinner he paid too much attention' t6 the 



dishes to talk mucb. A'l^Ate of bhrtien teemed the ti^tct 
of his perueula]- aJGfeetioot for h* eagerly atked, * An thoss 
lifters hotP And on bang told that they w«re bo^ ke de< 
»red thitf one should be taken down to the cook and k^ 
wann, till he sent for it When the dinner was diipatched^ 
and the clatter of knives and plates had subsided, the conVcr> 
satton became general and animated, and though 1 have amC 
naany, if not most of my coaotrjmen, diirtinguishcd for littt- 
ntare or science, I have seldom heard any thing equal tOy 
atid never any thing more striking dian his conTersation. It 
was minted, oAen vehement ; it surpassed the rest of the eoa- 
paay more in quality than in quantity, for while it was suffici- 
ently distingnisbed by the vahte irf' the thonght, or the felwity 
<^ the ei^vessioa, there was nerer that everlaatiog flow which 
soBietimes overlays and smothers conranrtkm. When ha 
sidd any thing striking it was accompanied by a dictatorial 
manner, an uplifted arm, and a loud voice; but you could 
p^ceive an under expression of humour, as if be was con- 
scious, and meant be understood, that it was ft piefie of 
acting. In his opinions there was a simplici^, a cimimfm 
EOiBe, a «^Uke of refinement and paradox, which I waa not 
prepared for i Hm^ were the sentiments of a nma of good. 
smse — sometimes very simply,, sometimes very strikin^y ex~ 
pressed. We talked about men who endeavoni^d to acquire- 
classic^ learning late in life: he said that die fiiolt they always- 
coBiDutted was to ovw-refine; they must pronounce Engliah 
words of Latin .o> Greek origtB with a. classical accent^ 
when gOod scholars would pronounce them in the ofdinary 
way. Some one aidted what was the mle ? Parr : * Established 
custom.* He offered to help one of the party to some gr8s% 
but would not put it vpaa his ptato till he called it l^ its 
nam^, grass. Parr: ' Right, sir; thafs the English word; 
if you had called it a^raragus, you should not hove had any.' 
I told htm that I bad. lately seen, a geodeman whom- be once 
knew, but whom he had not seen, for sever^ years ; the 
Rev. Mr. — — , rector of — — . Pare: 'A most excellent 
nan;' and. tben after a pause, and eaergeticallyr * Sir, he i& 



a Methodist, bnt bis Methodism is founded upon good pris^ 
ciples, a fervid ima^nstion, and an affectionate heart; he is a 
most excellent, and, besides, a most scientific man.' We 
talked about politics — about the anti-jacobia war— about the 
debt in which it had involved the nation — and about Mr: 
Pitt. He told us a story, which he sdd, Mr. Coke of Nor^ 
folk had told him, and which Mr. Coke had heard £rom the 
person who witnessed the scene. When Mr. Fitt was a 
youth, some Iaw-]ord (could it be Lord Mansfield?) one 
morning paid a visit to I^nl Chatham at hb country resi- 
dence. Whilst they were conversing, his son William came 

through the Ubnuy. Lord asked who is that youth. 

Lord Chatham said, ' That's my second son — call hhn back 
and talk to him.' They did so, and Lord ■ ■ ■ was struck 
by a forwardness of knowledge, a readiness of expression, and 
an unyieldingness of opinion, which even then was remwk- 
able in the tuture minister. When he had left than, Lord 
Chatham said, ' That's the most extraordinary yotith I ever 
knew. All my life I have been fuming at the possession of 
political power, and have found the greatest difficulty in get- 
ting or keeping it. It is not on the cards of fortune to pre- 
vent that young man's gaining it, and if ever he does so, he 
will be the ruin of his country.' We dared not ask him 
whether he thought the prophecy had been verified^ and that 
Old England was ruined, for fear of being gored by him. 
We talked about theology, and, among other particulars, 
about the remarkable passage in ' Josepho^* in which Jesus 
Christ is mentioned, and of the three reasons for believing it 
to lie interpolated. He thought there was no force in one of 
these reasons, viz. that the line immediately before the dis- 
puted passage obviously relates to the line which itbmediately 
follows this passage; so that, if the disputed passage is struck 
out, the text is consistent sense, but as it now stands, the pas- 
sage has no connexion with what goes before and aAer it, but 
dissevers parts naturally connected : this he thought proved 
nothing, because it was easy to suppose that Josepbus himself 
had dooe what authors are ccmtinually doing -^tbat is, that - 



Kfter havidg written his histbry'he wrote this passage^ and in-^ 
serted it in the most convenient place be could find. It was 
certdnly an interpolation, but Josepbus himself might be the 
interpolator. He thou^t that the decisive reason ibr believ- 
ing that it was ajraudulent interpolation by a later hand, was 
the &ct tliat the early defenders of Christianity never referred 
to it. Have the Jews preserved the work of Josepbus ? and, 
if so, is this passage contained in their copies ? I have several 
times put this tjuestion to Jews, biit could never get a distinct 
answer from Uiem. One who is now a C^iristitm, and a very 
sensible man, said, * lliere is not a Jew, not even a Rabbi, 
who could answer the question : the Jews have preserved no- 
thing, and know nothing.' In the party there was Dr. •■ — , 

an Arian minister, and Mr. -, a Socinian minister. With 

these gendemen he appeared on terms of intimacy and re- 
gard; the evening advanced, and he became ezdted 
with winS, (I do not mean indecorously excited,) he invited 
them to drink a parting glass with him, and went round to . 
the other side of the table to touch glasses sociably, first'*' 
above, then below, and then side to side, or, as be called i^ 
hob-a-hob ~— it "was a parting glass, for they never met agtftn. 
Seeing that he was on such iriendly terms with these gentle- 
men, I said to him, I suppose. Sir, that although they are 
heretics, you think it is possible they may be saved. * Yes, 
Sir,' said he; ad(£ng with affected vehemence, ' but they must 
be scorched first.' — We talked of economy: he thought that 
a man's happiness was secure in proportion to the small num- 
ber of his wants, and said, that all his life-time it bad . been 
his object to prevent the multiplication of them in himself. 
Some one said to him, * Then, Sir, your secret of happiness 
is to .eta down your wants.' Parr : * No, Sir, nty secret is, «of 
to let them grcm.' — There had lately been a contest for the 
office of preacher, to lincoin's lun. R^inal Heber, the 
learned and eloquent Bishop of Calcutta, had been elected, 
and the other candidate, Dr. Maltby, had lost it by one. or 
two votes. Parr ; * I was very sorry that Edward Maltby 
■^aa not elected^ for he was the very oum for . them t' adding 



KMoroBsIjr, * hk leu-nlog woald have ensored ^ir respectr 
his ebquenee wovld hare exdted daeir atSention, «nd Iris 
cotjrtesj would have wtm their sfiectioDs.' Some one men- 
Uosed bavkg besrd a sermon which he preat^ed at St. 
Paul's; he seemed much interested to know whe^er he waa 
bravd (Ustiactly; and when told» tolerably so, he saic^ * I 
prMched at St j^iil's only three times in my life ; tlie firsV 
l£is« D^ voice was belom the place — the second time it was 
above the place — the third time 1 hit it exactly, and tfiati 
sunt hare been the time vdien yon heard m«.' 

*' The evening was a very agreeable and exciting one. I 
believe everybody etgoyed it, Init no one more than Dr, Parr 
bime^ AMion^ he was by &t the oldest man of tlie party, 
Qne only excited, he was th& youngest in vivaciQr and energy. 
I am QBcertain whether it was one or two years after diis in^ 
tarview, but Ert: one of these periods, in the autumn, passlug 
through WarwidEshire on a tour of pleasure, «nd: having 
Oixasion to spend a day or two at Leamington, I ranployed 

* gne morning in driving over to , to call on him. The 

servant sudl that he was. gone to Warwidc, to attend a meeU 
ijig of the B^le Society. We (I and my friends^) drove baek- 
to Warwick, and inquired £ir him at the town-hall. He had 
quitted the meeting, and.had gone totbebotelitu smoke. I 
vralked alone to the hotel, and there, in a little square parionrr 
i bond him enveloped in clouds of. suH^e: the skin oThis 
&ee. apptHin% bronzed by his fiivounte amusement,, fat it 
looked more like dhrty parchment, than like the complexion 
cif a lirii^ mail. 1^ grey eye, dim be&rc^ was still dimmer 
now } tmi I thought that fas had i^ged tast nnee' our fonner 
interview.. We — (&r during the convetcatioB, my finendsi some 
(tf wbomhad known him looffer than myself, had entered the 
room,) wertold him Jhiw we had beoi tracking lum ftrst M tfte 

. paiMonage,- and then to the BiUe SocieQr. Hesaid, * Yes; 
I the meedng to give mf^ sanotioH to it.' We b^^ed 
him to come and dine with us at our hotd. At first he r^ 
foMoAj insisting that we should go and dhie with him; but on 
beiiig tdd that our party was toolai^ and that thesmaHte* 



fuie ought to pay the visit to tbe iaxg/a^ ifo oons^nt^ He 
cams to tbe hotel half an hour befiwe diQner-time^ «d4 
changed his coat aud his vig ia tbe carriage, ^is ehai^ of 
dress had improved his aj^Karance; his &C8 looked less 
smoke-dried, his eye less dim; and altogether h« ^pev^ 
less altered than he had in the morning ; h^ w^ very che^- 
fill and animated'; talked Jtfon, and vith more fervoia- th«n 
OP the former occasion ; and yet I have fewer things to rei/ati^ 
of his conversation. He sud i» b^ long left off att^qdiPS 
the cvrrent literature of th^ day; apd that b« n^v^c veadi 
qny q^w puUicatifHi* unless it leltUed ^ a subject on which^ 
he vas anxious for information; he tallied ftboiK fdwWbiPBk 
and th^ differ^ professions, and said, that the inpst d9si):«bti» 
one for a man of intellect was tbat <^ physic; ^e pTB^^titw i^ 
the laWt he said* q>oiled a ipan's mof«} £|«Q«e and. philoGCH 
phic spirit; the church was tpo bjgotted and sU^-^tap^fdK 
the study and practice of physic was equally &vQitrabls tQ^ % 
man's mora! sentiments and iqtellectnal &f:i^tiep. ^ I was 
yeij near,' added he, * l^g ^ physician ; and if I hadi* aaid 
he, lifting 1^ his arm with an aiif of jocose poipposity un . i . 
We were left to gitess whjtt faif medict4 wb^Keoten^ woq^ 
b^^re been. One qf the partyi, in the; course i^ CQnversw^fMb 
quoted a pasfii^ ft^ni, — \ forget what1l^fit^^— rl^rr, «^ 
nutecUy.^ stily,. * Qp you reqi^mber, ^ rest, of the pa^* 
s^tge?" — The i^swer wafe, ' No.' — Parr: * Then l€»rn ^ 
fyf it is worth knowing ;. dp opt, H^ 4w h^KtiiSt <|V(4e oQJy- 
half a pass^^^ apd then, aft^T: a. short pa^^e,. and. wi^ «, 
poinpOHs bv^tplf^ii4air-*^.or,UI^ t)^ or^pdQlE),<l^p(fr9<wfM' 
te3^ and 0909 of thpm tt^ tb^ pinrppw..* We taUtsd. about 
tbe.eduea^^ of s^pptbpya;. h% 5^d» it wf|s ««iy to- fidjri^ 
i^b^' to do,wi^ d^^ Vfhfin tb^ wero^ tnelyft or, thiftsw — 
ttti^is, au^th^Atp a.puU^»;bP^ oit:<me-^tsm»imA ti» it% 
in use and^mincnc^ si)(^,8a-^iitlef|^pf £3vei^u^; btltJ^: 
was, T^Miy d^fi%a4t tp ^tjm where *o s^, theip, ftom ejgfct w 
n^w i)p, to that, a^ H«. 8»id» thnt a father shQnld.n«i<wr 
ifjif^rferf ffiith.thietzeBtHMaitiof ll».b»»ati«aal>«ii]lb 
t^e ^ft bwdfibips and s«v«riUes ^ish ha wohU . eaoomabu^ 



We talked of Dr. Johnson : he said, he had once b^;im to 
write a life of him ; and if he bad continued it, it would have 
been the best thing he had ever written. ' I should have re- 
lated not only eveiy thing important about Dr. Johnson, but 
many things about the men who flourished at the same time;' 
adding, with an expression of sly humour, ' taking care, at 
the same time, to display my own leaming.' He said, Dr. 
Johnson was an admirable scholar, and that he would have 
-had a high reputation for mere leaming, if bis reputation for 
intellect and eloquence had not overshadowed it ; the classical 
scholar was forgotten in the great original contributor to the 
literature of his country. One of the company reminded him 
of his first interview with Dr. Johnson, as related by Mr. 
Langton in Boswell's account of his life. Afler the mterview 
was over, Dr. Johnson sud, ' I do not know when I have 
had an occasion of such free controversy ; it is remarkable 
how much of a man's life may pass without meeting witii any 
instance of this kind of open discussion.' 

*' To this remark Dr. Parr replied with great vehemence : 
' / remember the interview well : / gave him no quarter. 
The subject of our dispute was the liberty of the press. 
Dr. Johnson was very great ; whilst . he was arguing I ob- 
served that be stamped. Upon this, I stamped. Dr. 
Johnson said, * Why did you stamp, Dr. Parr?' — I relied, 
* Sir, because you stamped ; and I was resolved not to give 
you the advantage even ^ a stamp in the argument.* It is 
impossible to do justice to his description of thb scene; the 
vehemence, the characteristic pomposity with which it was ac- 
companied, may easily be ima^ned by those who knew him, 
but cannot be adequately represented to those who did not 

*' One of the striking features in Dr. Parr's character 
seems to have been a child-like simpUci^ and sincerity, one 
effect of which was, that feelings of personal vanity were 
let out, which any other man would have felt under the 
fame circumstances, but which he would have prudently 
\Ksgt to himself; yet his mode of displaying it rather excited 
frsmile than a sneer. Of this I have ^ven several instances; 


but h^% is another — One of the party put die following 
question: As mathematics chieHy are cultivated at Cam- 
bridge, and the classics chiefly at Oxford, bow comes it that 
the three greatest classical scholars of our day, Porson, 
Bumey, and himself, were Cambridge men? His answer 
was this : ' Sir, Cambridge had nothing to do with their 
learning; tJney would have been great scholars anywhere.' 
I have beard that he used to say, that < there were three 
great scholars ; of these Person was the first, Bumey thp 
third, who the second was it was unnecessary to say.' A 
inend of mine told me, that either he or a friend of his, I 
forget which, meeting him one afternoon in a large port^, 
endeavoured to remind him that they had met before. At 
first, Dr. Parr did not rememlier him; but at length 
recollecting himself he said, * I remember. You were 
engaged in argument with another gentleman ; he was too 
much for you, but I let him alone till he had completely mas- 
tered you, and then — I came pounce upon him.' " 

To the latest period of his life the vigour of Dr. Parr's 
mind remained unimpaired. In his 77th yeaj he wrote tp 
Mr. Broughauf — " AnLmo qnam nulla saiectus, say' j, 
triumphantly, in the words of Statlus." His last illness 
was long protracted. In the course of it appearuices were, 
more than once, so favourable as to excite the strongest 
hopes of his recovery; but about a fortnight before his 
decease all these flattering ideas took their flight. From 
that time he gradually declined, the vital powers slowly ajid 
almost imperceptibly wasting, until exhausted nature sunk, 
and in the evening of the 6th of March 1825, he gently 
expired, having completed his 78th year on the 26th of 
January. He was to the last serene and placid, — calmly, 
even cheeriidly resigned. It was most grati^iug to his 
weeping relatives and friends to hear, mingled with , the 
devoutest breathings of pious acquiescence in the will of 
Providence, the warm and glowing expressions which oflea 
broke firom bis lips of intense feeUng and generous concern 

VOL. X. N 



fiir the wd&re of Ins fiiends* bit Qamennu acqnabtanc^ 
Via coantiy, and his ftllow-mea. Bren in his lost hcnira, 
it Kemed to be still his dfeligbt, as It «ver vas in his previous 
U£^ to range thnAigli the #hole eotnpass of nitiaial cre&lioti; 
embrsdn^ vidiin his kmdest tibonghts and vishes all honum 
btnigs; and jnteiesting hinudf in ervry event* in erery 
part of the wotld, which wore a fitroorabte aspect tovards 
fatmian improvement and human h^piness. With that 
greatness of mind which can anticipate widi perfect cmd- 
posiire the last awfiil change of mortal man, he gave minnte 
directiotis respecting his fiineml' 

His remains were deposited near those df his late w% and 
her daughters, in a vault in Hattoo Ohsrch. They were 
attended on foot hj nearly ibrty goitlemen in moomii^, 
coasJstJng of the clergy of the surroandhig perishes, &c 
The palUieaiers were seven clergymen, and one dituKgiting 
. minister ; and the cdflin was borne by parishioners of Hatton 
q>pointed by hnnself. 

Agreeably to his express instmctioos, the burial service 
vas Doad 1^ die Rev. Rana Kemie^y, ftCnister of St. Paul's 
Ch^id, Birmingham. After the reading of the lessoni^ a 
sermon was preached, " in obedience to his own request," 
'by the Rev. Dr. Butler, Archdeacon of Berby, and Head 
Master of Shiewsbmy School, from the text which Dr. Parr 
directed to be inscribed on hb monument viz. " What dodi 
the Lord require of dtee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, 
and to walk humbdy with thy God?" On die following 
Sunday, die Rev. Dr. Wad^ Vicar of St. Nicholas, War- 
wick, there preached a funeral sermon for him, which was 
attended by an immense concourse of all ranks. Another 
was deUva^d the same day at the tTi^ Street Dissenting 

To do justice to such a man as Dr. Parr ; to mark the 
extent of bis erudition, to describe the force of his elo- 
quence, to show the vast magnitude of his genius, bnt^ above 
all, to praise bis virtues as they deserve is a task which we 


ftEV. SAUUU, tava. 179 

are h^ipy to tetarn is iQ the hoiub of mi imTiTichut in ever^ 
lespect qualified for the undiertaltiDg.* 

We ate indebted for the materials of which the forgoing 
Memoir is composed, to the Public Cluractertt, the Geude- 
msn's, Blat^wood's, the Lcmdoh, MoDthly, New Mo&Aly, 
aiod Imperial Magazines, die Literary Gazette, die Montii^ 
CSironicle, the Osfoi>l Uniro^^ Jourtaal, Sec, and to a 
-' learned and intimate frimd of Br. Parr's, vho had &TOnred 
us with various corrections, and several additional facts. — 
Of the characters <^ Dr. Parr which have hitherto appeared, 
no one is more admirably vrritten, and at the same time mor6 
impartial and just, than diat contamed in the sermon by 
Dfr. Budet, 'te tt^iCh we have already alluded; and witti 
the foUowiiig interesting attracts &om which we conclude. — 

** It is not without feelings of the most powerful and coib- 
flicting natiire, that I feel myself c^led i^n, in obedience 
to the wishes of our revered and lamented friend, to address 
yoti upon this sad and affecting sol^nnity. But for those 
wishes, eamestiy expressed to Iiis executors and to myself 
In all the confidence and warmdi of friendship, I should feel 
it most presumptuous to intrude myself into that spot, which 
he has occupied for so many years to your incalculable ad- 
vantage. Woe to tmy who may come aftet him to this 
place, unimpressed with a due sense of their vast inferiority 
to so great a man, and without due reverence for his talents 
and his virtues. I deeply feel and acknowledge my own de- 
fidencies, but I have a satis&ction in having been requested 
by himself to undertake tliis office, and in thmking that l^ 
his owil es^re^ desire 1 am now addressing you, at the 

' Dr. John Jobnitone, of Birmingham, la preparing ■ memoir of Dr. Pair, 
Jtnibded on materiak left b; Dr. Fin faimsdfftir that purpose, and illuslnted bj 
latteti and papera of rarioiu kinds, exdunvel; in tbe pouesnon of tbe eieoutont 
(of whom Dr. Johnstone is one,) and by communications from Dr. Psrr's matt 
Jntimate Meods, Dr. Davy, master of Caius, Dr. Etonth, prcndent of Magdalan, 
Dr. MMij. Ardideacon BodcT, and ottwr launed men. This nupidr of Dr. 
Johnstone's fa intended to be prefixed to a colUtction of the woika published by 
Dr. Parr faimself, and a cdlection of tbe aennoiu, criticism*, inscHptioiu, and 



I wben the grave is aboet to close upon, his mortal 
renuuns, and the final s^mration is at hand between the pas- 
tor and his beloved flock, till they shall meet again in the 
jDWsions oF eternity. 

" I shall not veary you with common-place observations, 
Dor with the ordinary topics of consolation on this occasion. 
The shortness and uncertainty of life, the necessity of prepa- 
'.rMion for death, andthe unsew and awfnl state into which it 
.ushers US} are considerations which every fimeral may and 
..ou^t to briAg to our bosoms, and. the bun^lest of our br^ 
vthren, by bis death, may teach us this unportant lesson as 
.-^fectually as the greatest and the wisest'of -mankind. K^tber 
can any man of sense and refl^ption, :wfaile he laments, the 
loss of so great and enunent a memlKr.of society, or of so 
dear and revered a fi-iend, feel immoderate grief at an event 
.wluch, even long before the present period, the laws of na- 
ture might have tau^t him to expect In the midst of life 
we ate in death, but old age never can be &r from it', and is 
..hourly more rapidly ai^rooching to it The life of our 
-^nerable friend had extended inuch beytmd the limits which 
'i^e sacred writer has assigned for its natural term, and he 
Jttfid been long pr^ared to resign it, when God should call 
him, as, in &ct, he did resign it, with the piety af a Christian* 
and the calmness of a philosopher. He had not -only passed 
his ' threescore years and ten,' , but he was fast approaching 
«ven ' to foui:score years,' without -feeling that ' labour and 
-sorrow* which the Psalmist so truly and pathetically de- 
.scribes as the general concomitants of protracted age. Till 
within a short period, his old age was green and vigorous^ 
* bis eye had not waxed dim, neither had his natural force 
abated;* and, above all, that noble and generous spirit, 
which was alive to all the finer sympathies, and all the 
holier charities of our social nature, had lost none of its 
Widour; and that profound and capacious intellect, which 
seemed Ae boundless ti^asure-house of erudition and know- 
ledge, long after the time when the faculties of most men 
Income blunted, and their- memory impaired, was still sbl« 



t6 pour ferth its exhausdess stores with the prodigality of bis 
briglitest yean. That when these became impaired, tbat 
when the body began to be enfeebled by disease and the 
faculties dimmed by age, the period of snaring and oblnsca- 
tion should have- been shortened, is a consummation whicb 
none who knew and loved him, as most of those who are here 
assembled, can reasonably regret. The event brings with it 
its own eonsolations, and it is unnecessary to dwell louger 
on a subject which requires neither enforcement nor expla- 
nation'. I will rather turn to consider a few points in bis 
diaracter, which, though known and understood by you. all, 
I may be allowed to revert to, ^ a Ume when we are assem- 
Ued to pay him our last duty, and- the grave is about to hTde 
lus remains from us for ever. 

" I am not about to consider him as a &urtless character r 
were I to do so, I should betray the trust be has reposed in 
me, in a manner that would, I am sure, be as offensive to 
the feelings of those who hear me, as to my own. He had 
not only his share of the &ults and failings which are inse- 
parable from our nature but he had some that were abnost 
peculiarly his own. But than they were such as were nobfy 
compensated t^ bis great and rare excellencies; snch as 
arose from hb grand and towering genius, from his ardent 
and expansive mind, firom his fearless and unconquerable 
spirit, from his love of truth and liberty, from hia detestalJon 
fA falsehood and oppression ; and not unfreqnently also, for 
we may scorn to conceal it, from the knowledge of his omi 
strength, irom Che consciousness of transcendant talents, of 
learning commensurate to those talents, and of eloquence 
proportionate to that leamiog. This led him to be impatient 
in argument, somedmes with a dull and unofifending, oflen 
with a legitimate, and always with mi arrogant or assumu^ 
adversary. From the impetuous ardour of bis feelings and 
the sincerity of his soul, he yns apt to judge of others from 
himself and this counteracted his natural si^acity, and ex- 
posed him too easily to the artifices of pretenders and im- 
postors. Of his intellectual powers it was impossible that he 
N S 



Ghould not be conscious, and this made hiia, too open to the' 
praise of those who could not truly s[^reciate them, and 
«ho bestowed ^heir hollow compliments mth insincerity of 
heart, i^dowed widi an ardour of feeling and quicltness of 
perception proportionate to bis stupendous abilities, and 
forminj^ in fact, an inherent and essential part of their con- 
stitution, it was impossible that his likings and aversions 
should npt be proportionably ftrong, and ntore plainly ex- 
pressed than those of other men, and his habits in this and 
many other respects, were ifrhat the great founder of the 
Peripatetic school ascribes to the chu-acter of tlie maguani- 
ipous, and such indeed he was. 

. " If I have touched thus plainly and sincerely on the ble- 
mishes of his character, I may claim the 'greater credit in what 
I have to say on its excellencies. You wilt, readily believe 
t|iat he who has not sought to conceal the former, will not 
Tfish to magnify the latter beyond their due bounds. Indeed 
it would hardly be necessary to say this, were it not probable 
that among those who are now assembled there may be some, 
who were either strangers to him personally, or who have had 
but sUght opportunities of knowing him. But to you, his 
beloved flock, who have had the benefit of his instniotion 
and converse ibr more ihaa forty years — to you, his long* 
tried and long-known Iriends, whose afi^tion tor him has 
increased in proportion to the length of your intimacy t— to 
those whose frequent and habitual intefcourse has j^ven you 
tb^ best means of estimating his talents ^d his virtues, to 
you it is needless to make this aj^peal. I apeak befoce many 
and competent, even the most competent witnesses, in whose 
[uresence it woiiXd he as absurd in me to praise him ibr virtues 
trhich he did not poasessi as it would be base in an enemy 
to censure him for faults which canndt justly be laid to his 
charge. — I am here in obedi^ce to his command, and so 
ffir, I trust, in his own free and manly spirit, as to scors 
ofiering to his mem(»y, whftt I should despise to receive as 
a tribute to my own. I most ever speak of him with the 
warmth of affectionate Ineodahip, with love for bis virtuest 


BCV. SjUIDEI/ pamu lf3 

vith adinkatba for hi* leaimi^ sod with gTMitud« ibr hb 
regard ; but I wiU say of him oaty UwC which I b^eve ittd 
know* and will never intaroduee tbe language of insineori^ 
in a place aad cm sn oceasi«i, wMch) of all trttters, should 
admit only the voice <^ truth. 

*' He was ^^fted by nature with a most powerful and capa- 
cioiis intellect, which he cultivated by early and diligent 
a[^Ucatio&. His memory was almost miraculous, and the 
stores which he could pour ibrth from it, on every subject 
of. literature, jvere perfectly ineadiaustible. hi abstruse and 
mciaphysical enquiries he had no superior. The quickness 
a€ his perception led his mind to remote and ocoilt causes 
and their consequences, and the somtdneBS of his judgment 
enabled him to discriminate between truth uid error, be* 
tireen bypotheais and fiict. Se^Iy versed in the writings vf 
the andent philosophers, and eiqweially in those of the Aca- 
demic and Peripatetic sdioots, and intimately ctmveraaot alscr 
irith ell the eminent writers oa moral and metaphysical sub- 
jects in modem Ume^ be could pierce into tbe most secret 
recesses of the human mind, and trace its pasaiMis and ita 
habits, its virtues and its vices^ to die very source from wiiidi 
tbey spring. Yet this knowle^e was but human. It had 
that mixture of infirmi^ wfaieh allays all our br^test ac 
quirements, and thus teaches ns the vani^ of all &aiblf 
attwnments. He whose keoi and rapid ^aaae could thus 
develope the modons of the human heart, and scrutinize those 
causes of our actions and feelings which are often unknown to 
ourselves, was coatinually liable to misq>prehenaion and 
error in his intercootse with mankind. He judged of the hearts 
of othex men from the unbounded benevolence and nmpUcifr^ 
of his own. And frcmi being accustomed to metaphysical 
and abstract views of tbe constitution of our mmdsi be foi^ot 
how much their l^git^aate and natural c^>«»tiona ate coo- 
tro«led by drcunutances, and perverted t^ ioteroourse with 
eaeh other — how fraud* prejudice, and interest, warp many 
from their natural bent ; bow pride, passifMi, and imitation 
cocmpt otliers. Bow ceremony, osteotatioD* and sdf-jove 
» 4 



influence these; how those axe depraved bj envy, lutredf 
and long^cherished animosity. However correct, therefore, 
might be his philosophical knowledge of the human mind, it 
must be admitted -that he too often wanted ju^ment, and 
not unfrequendy erred himself^ and was still more often 
misunderstood, in his intercourse with mankind. And I 
have thought it but right to state this, because it may serve 
to explain and to remove many of those olfences which v/ere 
tak^n against him, by those who did not know his simplicity 
and singleness of heart, and who may have imagined them- 
selves slighted where he never intended to oHend, or may 
have construed expressions of momentary feeling into the 
language of settled dislike. 

" 111 serious argument he was keen, energetic^ and irre- 
sistible ; but the cheerfulness of his mind sometimes led him 
to paradox on lighter subjects, especially among those 
whom he loved ; and in such cases he seemed to contend not 
only for the sake of amusement, but, perhaps also, for that 
of strengthening his powers, and awakening his Acuities for 
more grave discussion. The causes already mentioned have 
somethnes operated on these occasions to produce an un- 
favourable result among strangers, especially when combined 
with that impatience which was inseparable ft-om his acute 
understanding and vigorous imagination, and perhaps, that 
desire of victory which was natural to his great Mid ardent 
^irit. On such occasions, phrases heightened by the colours 
of his glowing eloquence, arguments wrested ft^ni his adver*- 
saries, and pointed against their original &amers with the 
dexterity of a practised disputant; the sportive sallies of an 
exuberuit wit, and the playful shafts of ridicule, which were 
meant only to graze, but which, when ^ealt by such a band, 
inflicted a deeper wound than the most hostile weapons of 
less gifted men ; all these, 1 say, contributed to mislead tbf>9e 
who did not thbroughly know him, in theu: estimate of his 
feelings and his character. They formed their judgment of ■ 
him as of ordinary men, and dkl not give him the benefit of 
those allowances which a nearer acquaintance, aad a more 


nEV. SAMUEL FAftR. 185 

intimBte kbowledge of bis eieltied virtues, and bU matchless 
attEunments might have induced them to grant. They sair 
not the sterling worth, the innate benevolence of bis heart] 
they knew not, what ^L who enjoyed his intimacy could 
testify, that if a hasty expression, uttered in the ardour of 
dispute, was couched in stnHiger terms than he would have 
used in a moment of less exdtement, it was not meant to 
inflict a permanent wound, and that it was utterly out of 
his nature deliberately to do an ill turn to the worst enemy 
be bad. 

" In politics his ardent love of freedom, his hatred of oft' 
pression, and bis invincible spirit, joined to the most di^ 
interested and incorruptible integrity, and the most resolute 
indqiendence, even in the days of poverty and privation^ 
made him always a prominent and consp i awys character. 
Caution he despised ; it was not a part of bis noble and fear' 
less nature. What he thought greatly he uttered manfully ; 
and such a mighty master of language, when speaking or 
Writing on civil or religious liberty, carried away his hearers 
with the same resistless torrent of eloquence by which himself 
was swept along. It may be said by his adversaries, that 
there was sometimes too much vehemence in his language 
on ^is subject, and I have neither time nor inclination to 
enter the list with them on that head ; but tbey should re- 
member, that he who never knew fear or self-interest, eoald 
nq{ speak in tame or servile terms ; that all public m6n (and 
we cannot class him under any other denomination) some- 
times use stronger language during the warmth of debate^ 
than they would adopt in their cooler and less hurried mo- ' 
ments, and that men of ardent minds and vivid imaginations 
are peculiarly liable to this imperfection, in proportion to the 
strength of their feelings, and the vigour of tJieir eloquence. — 
But after all that bis worst adversary can urge against him, he 
mast be allowed to have been the most sincere and Jkitbilil 
lover of bis country, zealously attached to her consUtution, 
and only anxious that all ranks and parties should enjoy as 
much liberty of action and of conscience, as he conceived to 


196 ajsv: umxibi. fakb. 

be eompadblfl therewith. Aad in private lUe he was on 
tanns of friendly and femiliar Intercourse with toaoy whose 
i^uni<ms were removed as &r as possiile from bis own. For 
m^Bel^ I may ssy, that differing frtxn him on many poUtijcat 
pcHots, and panjcidarly on one which a few years since was 
pecaSataiy near his heart, and on some theological questions* 
not one moment's interruption to our friendship was caused 
fay 1^ or any othsr diTecsity of (^imon, duiing more than 
. five-and-twenty years. 

" As to his learning, it was the most profound, and, I may 
add, the most varied and extensive, of (my man of his aget 
He has left a chasm in the hteratore <^ his country which 
none of us, who are here assemlded to do honour to his 
memory, shall ever see filled i^. He c<Mnbined in himself 
a rare fmd haBML.union of qaalities that are seldom compa- 
tible with eacn'omer; quick perc^iUon aad sound judgmeat, 
ret^Uive memory uid vivid imagination ; to these he added 
Unwearied assiduity aad accurate research. As a classical 
scholar he was suprone — deeply T«rsed in bistory, espedally 
that of his own country; in metaphysics and moral philo>- 
s^hy not to be excelled ; in th^U^ he had read more 
- ext^isive^, and thought more deeply) than most (^ those 
«{ho claim the highest Ittetvry fame in tibat departaoent He 
was admirably versed in tiie history and constitution of our 
own chiu'ch) in the origin of its Uturgy, which no tnan ad-* - 
mired more tbwi himself and in the writings botii of its 
founders and (^ those great luminaries who flourished in the 
Seventeenth century. He was well acquainted also with the 
ccaistitutifHi of those sects and churches which difler fipom ou^ 
Own. He was well read in controvttsy, thongh he loved not 
Controversialists, for his benevolent end toler^ing spirit was 
shocked by any thing like rancour among men who believe a 
go^el of love» and worship a God of lov^ and yet can let 
loose the malignant and vindictive fiesatmis, in titsii rehgioni 
diffwlesj against each other. 

" Thus pi«»eminent himself in learning, h» was» ofall men 
vrfuran I hwre- ever knovn ot read o^ the mart Vbeai. m oom- 



mtaucati^ it, and in soirisg the aeeda tuod fiHterii^ the 
growth of it, by hk advice by his iat^'oat, aoct vory htrgely 
and ficquoitly by his peouiiary asustwice to «U sdiolors who 
stood in need of it> and especially to hb brethnn in dbe 
church, and to young sen of promising talents, whose means 
were inadoquabe to thor support at the Universities. Were I 
not withheld by the delicacy of the subject, I conU oorrobo* 
rate this assertioA by many splendid inslattces, some of wUcb* 
perhaps, may be known to several of those who hear me. He 
was utterly destitute of all littleness and je^usy of spirit and 
never mentioned the name, either of friend or foe, who had 
a»y pretensions to learning, without rendering ample justice 
to his merits on that score. Neither party, sect, pique, or 
injury, could ever influence hun in this respect ; he gave to 
all thar du^ and sometimes, perhi4>8, even more than their 
due meed of praise ; not with grudging and parsimuiioiis 
measure, but with that frank and cheerful spirit which spoke 
the siQceri^ and generous feelings <^ bis heart. 

^ Of bis benevolence and > liberality I find it difficult to 
speak. The tiioae is so aB^)le, and the examples which 
ooovr to me are so numerous^ that while I feel it iroposuble 
to do justice to the sul^ect, I have the satis&ction to tbmk 
that there can. scarcely be one amongst us who has it JUA 
written on his heart. You, in particulac, who have so loi^ 
been cheered by bis residence among you, to whose wants, 
and even to whose ^ijo^rments he so long administered ; yon, 
whom he has relieved or visited in sickness, has consoled in 
affliction, has succoured in distress; you, to whom he has 
been a coimsellor, a father, and a iriend, to whom his atten-" 
tion, his it^uence, and his purse, were never wanting ; yon 
can tell, each in your private and domestic relalioiis, how be- 
loved and esceUent a pastor, how kind and warm-hearted a 
friend you have now lost; and as for his public libeodi^, thai 
I may not wander on an ezhaustless them^ but confine my" 
self to this place, need I ask a stronger t^rtimony than thai 
of your own c^es at this very moment ? Look at the v»y 
decorations of this consecrated spot ; dear to you by die nw- 



morials of hb generous bounty, yet Btill dearer by the redol"' 
lectioa of his long connexion with it^ and by its now becoming 
the depository of his revered remains. There are those 
amongst you to whom this scene has been familiar from their- 
birth, but there are otJiers who hare grown grey under his pas- 
toral care, and who can remember the striking contrast which 
it now offers, to what it once presented ; who can remem- 
ber i^ withont the religious gloom of its numerous painted 
windows, without the splendid decoraUons of its altar and 
its pulpit, widi scarcely any of the marble en its walls, with- 
out its organ, without those bells in whose cheeriul sounds be 
so much delisted ; in a word, who nay recollect it to have 
been one of the meanest, instead of being, as it is now become 
by his bounty, undoubtedly one of the best kept, and best 
adorned places of divine worship which this neighbourhood 
con present? Truly may we say, that he found it brick and 
has left it marble. And what speaks far beyond the praise of 
solemn and decorous ornament, behold the testimony of his 
labours, in the enlarged dimensions of the edifice itself— not 
so much called for by the increased population of his parish) 
as by the iucreased and increasing numbers of that popula- 
tion who have been brou^t by him to frequent his church. 
So that he may be said not only to have effected a new crea- 
tion in the form and decorations of this sacred building by his 
bounty, but a far more important moral and reli^ous creation by 
his instruction, in the minds of those who assemble in it; and 
who, remembering his admonitions, and revering his virtues, 
will, it is hoped, never look upon these outward decorations 
and improvements, without associating with them a grateful 
recollection of those lessons of piety and virtue^ with which 
he taught them to adorn and Improve their minds. 

" And this leads me to the mention of bis piety, which« 
though uoostentadous, was fervent and sincere. Though 
tolerant in the highest degree to the opinions of all whom he 
believed to be sincere, be had a thorough end pervading sense 
of reli^on in his own mind, a firm belief in the promises of the 
gospel, andaconfidingtr^st in the mercies of God. I never 



knew him mention that august name irithout the utmost reve- 
rence, aad though, as I hare already observed, his piety was 
most unostentatious, yet frequently when I have come upon 
him unexpectedly, and sometimes during the pauses of our 
more serious ccaiversations (and I may add, that I rarely, 
perh^>s never, passed a day with him, in which some reli- 
gious topic did not form part of them) ; I have seen him 
occupied in devout and private aspirations, with that fervour 
of manner, and animation of countenance, which though the 
lips spoke not, sufficiently declared the holy and reverential 
feelings of his heart But, above all thin^ his delight was 
to contemplate and discourse upon the divine benevolence. 
This was the master chord to which his own heart was re- 
sponsive: he loved to be absorbed and losl^ as it were, in the 
contemplation of that divine goodness, which is as ceaseless in 
its operaUons as it is boundless in its extent. His own pure 
and benevolent spirit, indulgent to the frailties, and compas- 
sionate to the wants and infirmities of his fellow-creatures, 
was refined and exalted by the contemplation of that inex- 
haustU>le fountain of all goodness, and his hatred of all 
cruelty, oppression, and injustice was strengthened in pro- 
portion as he found them to be at war with the first principles 
of nature and religion, with the best feelings of the human 
heart, and the highest sensations of a God of mercy and a 
gospel of love. Even in his last illness, and In those mo- 
ments of temporary alienation, for some such there sometimes 
were, when the mind often betrays itsell^ and developes its 
natural bent, by dwelling on the subjects of its most inward 
thoughts, and revealing the secrets of its most private medi- 
tations, even at those periods, I say, this great and pervading 
feeling was strongly displayed. There was a holiness and 
purity in his very wanderings, which bespoke the habitual 
piety and benevolence of his soul, and which, perhaps, is a 
more affecting and salutary lesson to the survivors, than any 
death-bed exhortation could a^rd. 

•< And now, my friends, in this spirit, it is not I that speak 
to you, but himself; you hear him yet once more, teaching 


■jov- sod yannt crea from tfie gmve, uttering Utose words to 
](oq wbi^^ lie )iu ordered to bs recOTd«d on his monnmeat 
for your instructioo, and whicb, while living, he illustrated by 
Jus CTaoiple, Rever^Dce them as his Inst» teach thwn to yoar 
children after yxHi, and let them influence yoar lives; and 
remember while opportonity is yet given you, like hitnj ' to 
do Jutt^ ttti4 to love mercy, and to icalk hunA^ With yow 



No. VII. 


T&i: following memoir of this gfintleman, so tt^ Imomi 
to the public for his general attiunmeDts hi literature, ttiid 
for a Irariety of useful and important Idtwurs* b from the 
p^ of his nephott, the Rev. Thomas Bowdler. 

** llioimis Bowdler, the younger son of Thomas and 
Elizabeth Stuart Bowdler,* was bora at Ashley, near Badt, 
on the 11th of July, 1754. In his childhood hewss in every 
respect formed to engage the affection of h^ friends and 
releCtires, tind the admiration of strangers. By an accident 
which occurred in his nhith year, he was reduced to a state 
which almost excluded the hope of recovery, and some 
e£fects of it continued through life. His acute sufEerings at 
thb time, and his patience imder the severe operations which 
were deemed necessary, while they excited in no commoa 
d^;ree the feelings and aSeclJons of all around him, afforded 
at the same time unspedcable consolation to the hearts of 
those who witnessed th»n, and a happy pn^oslic of that 
fortitude and CSiristian principle which afterwards so greatly 
distinguished bis character. Ilie time which was passed 
under this visitation was by no means thrown away. He 
employed his hours, while he was capable of such employ- 
ment, in reading, or hearing others read; and thus probably 
laid the fbundatiAa of a vast fimd of historical knowledge. 
So diligent was his attention, and so retentive his memory^ 

* Mr. Bowdler WW deKendedfivmtbcTeiyuitiait but almoMeninctfanuif 
of H^« Bowdler, in Sliropahlre. Vb*. Bowdler wu the Kcond daughto- of Sir 
3dbm CMtaa, of 'Coningtoii, in Hundngdoadure, wbo wu die fllth baronetln 
liDMl deKant fiom Sir RolMtt Cottoo, Ac fbuider of tbe Cotton libruj^in dw 
British Mumim. She wm the uitbac of " Fnctical ObMmlioiu m the Book 



that nothbg seemed to escape his notice, or pass from his 
mind ; and from the judicious instruction of those to whom 
he owed his birth, and the kindness of other members of 
his tamily, this, which would have been to many in his 
situation fotally and irrecoverably lost, was to him a season 
of valuable information and improvement 

" Upon his restoration to health he went to scho«l to 
Mr. Graves at Claverton, near Bath, and soon became a 
fitvoiu'ite and distinguished scholar. His powers were con- 
siderable, and his progress rapid; and like other clever 
youths, he advanced beyond those who were of the same 
standing with himself in a degree which. If care had not 
been taken, might have produced inattention at the time, 
and have been prejudicial to Jliture eminence. Mr. Graves 
was an excellent scholar, and calculated to form a correct 
taste ( and here iiis pupil acquired much classical know- 
ledge, which he retained with partial fondness through the 
rest of his life. At the age of sixteen he went to study at 
the University of St. Andrew's, and afterwards at that of 
Edinburgh, as the best preparation for the medical profes- 
sion ; and at botb, his talents, his application, and hb cor- 
rect conduct obtained the marked f^iprobation of the 
professors ; his lively disposition and warm afifections gained 
many valuable friends; and his firm and steady principles 
enabled him to render essential service to some of his fel- 
low-students. At Claverton and St. Andrew's began an 
intimacy with the late LIeut.-Gen. VlUettes. It continued, 
unabated by time or distance, through the life of this 
amiable and lamented officer, whose memory was tenderly 
cherished in the bosom of his Bchool-fellow and fellow- 

" His studies at the University being completed, Mr. T. 
Bowdler set out on a tour through a considerable part of 
Europe. Passing through Germany, he spent some time 
at Vienna, which he afterwards strongly recommended as the 
place which a yoong man of rank and fortune could make 
his residence, with die most &vourable prospect of improve- 



ment, and the least danger to his principles and morals. 
Here be enjoyed the sodety, and engaged the regard, of 
several persons high in rank, and deservedly esteemed ; and 
Ironi hence he travelled throagh Hungary, carefhlly ex- 
amining its mines, and marking attentively the nature of the 
country, and the character of its inhabitants, to Trieste ; and 
from thence to Venice. He afterwards visited every part 
of Italy and Sicily, and returned, after An absence of four 
years, femillarly acquainted with modem languages; his taste 
formed after the purest models, and his knowledge enlarged 
from the various sources of information which had been 
opened to him. At this time he was remarkably stroi^ and 
active, and his desire of seeing every object of curiosity, 
almost unbounded; of all which he gave no small proof, 
among other instances, in twice ascending Mount Etna. 

" A long course of foreign travels is perhaps calculated 
to qualify a person to enjoy and adorn society, rather than 
to endure the labours of a profession. Yet he followed that 
in which his lot had been cast for some years- very diligently, 
and wiUt every prospect of attaining the highest eminence 
in it. His success was great, and he never entered a honse 
OS a physician, in which he did not continue to visit as a 
ft-iend. But it was exceeding irksome ai^d diriBstefol to 
him) and the distressing scenes which he was obliged to 
witness aSected his feelings so painfolly, that his peace of 
mind and bodily health sufiered materially. A circumstance 
unhappily occurred in 1781, which left an impression never 
to be ef&ced. In that year he undertot^ a voyage. to Usbon 
for the purpose of attending a young tnend, a member of 
one of the first lamilies in the kingdom, whose health was 
d^cate, but under Mr. T. Bowdler's judicious attention, 
was gradually improving. The best hopes were entcitnned 
of a complete recovery, when his friend canght a pntrid 
fever, and the medical advisers of the place prescribed a 
mode of treatment which Mr. T. B. resisted as far as pos- 
sible, foretelling a fatal issue. Wheq he was no longer able 
to act 8s a physician, he attended most anxiously as a nursc^ 

VOL. X. o 


19^ TH|9MAS BOWDLER, E»a< 

llU ^ flAffi M« ppwdictiopB accom{^hed, iw<t fee himsdf 
^^BH A« l^v^r* From this aOftck be recos^tSd^ hovii^ 
^\ieH tjbjf fM'icto^ orders tl)at no oqe should be admitted 
tp advise ^r bitn i fvd sotui afijer returned to En^aod* 
1^ jfia/nv^ bpv^er, with his heahh greatly injuredi his 
4^|it5 Imi^, aD4 ^ dji«li|[e to bi$ profession (ihanged intft 
^ttw ai«^i<Hi- ^*nng contiuijied ia it ti>r some few mora 
jreiF^ Ie«f b« (i})ot)]d e?v^ ptii)i to his iaiher, whom he gxfati^ 
r^Vjirg^ «qd tenderly lovfdt VpoQ 'be death of his ^ged 
mu^t b« n»pu[ip«i4 if 9!t<^geth«<F, a^d with it a^L hapes 

f* Stt^ tbffll^h ^ ai>PUm£i^ ¥i this world's vesfltbt be 
IKem^vd « l«rge ^wa ^f t^se moral aiid ii^eUwtMfd 
.«odownM!jiit«} tbe value of which seidofn &il$ to be duly 
appreiaatad in tibis wuMjtry. • Pe ftuHtd bioMf capaMp 
«tf oeeupyiag a distinguished pUce in the best i^^med, 
aai raost highly cullavRted circles ; agd by Uviqg in l^J/ot- 
ixa dunog the greater part of tlw year, be was e«abled to 
tpke the 6M benefit of it ; here, theitefore, be fixed his 
rcstdeooe. He hecande a feUow of the Royal mi Antt- 
qsariaii SocnUes ; the cha&s-cb'l^ of which he is well known 
to have been a distinguished member, introdueed fiin tP 
many valuable persons, wiith some of whom he con^wtod 
an mtiiQate frioid^p, whid^ formed s spnjKfi of com6wt 
tfatotigh many years ; and bis presenoe wms viietme wherv- 
evOT ainence and literature vere cultivated and admiFed' 
He was honoured with tbe particailar frieoddiip of Mirs. 
IContagu, author of the ingenious Essay on the Writings 
of Shakspcace, wjio^e fine talents, degant imnnwf;^ Vld 
splendid foilune, drew idlD hn* society all those whp. weite 
maet dictiaguiabed for learning, osd most fenned to ^hine 
in oonvcffsatian' In these parties Mr. 1'. Bowdl«r met the 
fiidi9p> ISjKUifie and Porteos. Sir W- Pepys, Mr- Biir^ 
Mrs. Carter, Mri. Cbapcne, Mrs. H- iB^re, and niwy o^eq, 
who were formed to instruct «s weJl as to pW«w. I9. thftt 
:8bdet;, diou^ the pwties w«re avmenous, the gr^j^ 
attentiMi wfs alwsgni paid tp guard ag^iwt every thing vbi^ 



cmild dufJease the most correct monilul^ or dw BM»t pious 
Chnstiira. None would dan to ofiend agtintt the rtrktest 
miles cf propriety in the [wesence of Mrs. Mootaga, in 
wbom the most brilluuit wit was elways reMraitted by good- 
naturs ; and who Bever, in ber gayett aaooaaits, last sight 
<^ tbeTespeot doe to reli^tmaDd virtue. 

^But the ekgancies of art and tJbe cfaarms of society could 
not easlave a mind which bed learned the ijMfxvtaat leMon, 
diat tik is g^ren for hi^er purposes than the cultiration of 
litemture, and the advancement of Mtence, howevCT ratbwal, 
or bowcver fesonating these may be. Mr. T. Bfliwdler had 
iaibibed an hereditary desire to be doing good ; and hf^pily 
the metropolis affords abundant of^xntunides of exercising 
benerolence. There, in common witJi many persons, united 
tn him by suituat r^ard, and distinguished in their stations, 
be gar* a regular attendance upon several charitable inati- 
tntifins, and upon meetings whose object was to improve the 
condition of the lower orders. He acted for some time as 
diairraan a£ the vestry of St George's, Hanover Square, in 
-which pasish he readed ; he was for, many years a very dlU- 
gent member of the committee at the Magdalen Hosjrital ; 
and he was one of three commissioners appointed to enquire 
into the state of penitentiaries. Hie condition of the prisons 
m the conntry vras a aut^Mt which engi^ed his parlJcnlu- aU 
tendon. He wa» honoured with the friendship of Mr. Hew< 
ard, by whom a qnrit of enquiry bad been CKciled, and after 
the death cf that benevolent man, he carried ch^ the same plan, 
visiting the gaols in every part of the country, and su^estiug 

** In the autumn of the year 1787, Mr. T. Bowdler went 
np<Mi the condnest, and beii^ disappcrinted in his intendon of 
visiting Dresdsi and Vienna, employed his leisure in passing 
some line in the Low Conntries. which w«« then the scene 
of some very interesting b?ansactions. The strn^e between 
Ae stodtholder and the patriots had reached its height, and 
things had been brought to a crisis l^ an insult offtrred to the 
vFiincess of Oange, wbidi had engaged bw brother tbeKhig 
o 2 



of Priis»a in the quarrel. The circiirostances viucb attended 
.this revolution were of no. common importance; since, by the 
.avowed protection afforded to the patriots by the French go- 
vernment, Europe was in danger of being again engaged in 
war. This calunity was averted by the prompt measures 
taken by Prussia, added, perhaps, to the financial di£Bculties 
of France. 'Hie Duke of Brunswick entered the United Pro- 
vinces. with aa army, which speedily, and almost without 
bloodshed, re^xired to the nation its prince, its laws, and its 
.happiness and contributed to g^ve stability to the constituticHi, 
by intern^ union, and by close alliance with the pow«^ of 
I^gland and Prussia. Mr. T. Bowdler, with his accustomed 
energy and desire of obtaining accurate information, visited 
every place where iray important event occurred j and wrote, 
in a series of letters, an account of what he bad seen, which 
had all the interest that attends a narrative composed 
imteljigent'person who is aa eye-witness of that which he re- 
iate?. The letters were pyblbhsed in the following year, with 
an Appendix containing tlte ofB^aL docunvents relating to the 
journey of the Princess of Orange, which had led to the in- 
vasion by the Prussian army. 

" Mr. T, Bowdler was again upon the ooniinent in the fol- 
lowing yepr, when he had occasion to travel through France, 
where he marked with a penetrating eye tlie state of the 
public mind, and foretold, on his return, the approach of 
somQ great crisis in that unhappy country. The terrible 
eEFectfi which followed served 4iappily, fu^ to awaken a deqj 
and serious alarm, and then to rouse a spirit of vigilance and 
exertion, of loyalty and religion, among ourselves : the best 
and ablest men united t<^ther, and associations were formed 
for the preservation o{ all that is valuable to the Christian, 
and the member of society. A few individuals had, indeed, 
before this time, formed themselves into a society, cdled the 
Proclamation Society; its object being to carry into effect a 
procUmation issued by the king in the year 1787, for the en- 
couragement of pietyand virtue, and for the preventing and 
punishing of vice^ prc^neness, and imrporality. With .this 



Ttew diey directed their attention to reslit tbe growing pro-' 
fknatton of the ILord's dayj to introduce wholesome re-' 
gulations into prisons and houses of correction ; and to - 
prevent, or, if necessary, to punish, the vending of licentious 
prints and publications. Some good was efiected in these' 
rejects, and in procuring an improvement in the state of the 
police of the metropolis, and of the laws respecting vagrants 
and parish apprentices. Some of these objects have since 
been pnrsued v'ah greater vigour by the Society for the Sup- 
|»-ession of Vice, by whose steady and unobtrusive labours, a 
marked improvement has been effected in London and many ' 
other places. Its success is proved by tbe contrast wbicfaf 
as has been remarked by a very intelligent observer, is ex-- 
faibited in the state of morals, between our own metropolis and 
that of France ; while in Paris, the most abcminalile incen- 
tives to vice are officiously obtruded upon the notice of young 
persons, they are scarcely accessible in London to those wlu^ 
already vicious, industriously look, for them. To tbe Pnv 
damation Socie^, and to every attempt to improve the morals 
or the conditJOn of the lower orders, Mr. T. Bowdler, during 
his readence in London, afforded a ready assistance; not less 
wiHing to employ his mesns and bis talents for the benefit of 
tbe . distressed, add the reformation of the vicious, than to 
those objects which ere generdly more attractive to a man of 
polite and liberal education. 

" His r^idence in tlie metropolis during some portitm of the 
year continued UU 1800, when finding his health considerably 
impaired, and wearied perhaps with living constantly in society, 
where moreover he saw his fi'iends dropping around him, he 
quitted London altf^ther, and retired to St. Bonifiice in the Isle 
of Wight, where he lived ten years. - St. Boni&ce is, perhaps, 
ia respect of beauty and romantic scenery, the most captivat- 
ing spot in the whole of that enchanting island ; and Mr. T. 
Bowdler vtm well calculated to taile and enjoy all its charmsi 
In this beauliiid retirement, with an elegant and well-selected 
library, occasionally vbited by his friends and nearest re- 
latives, he passed his years with much comfort and consider-, 
o 3 

Dntzed by Google 


able iin]}niv«tDaAt to his he^tk. His time ww St hit owa 
command^ he was safaject to few iiil«mi{>tk>ns, iind addon 
p«rhap» contd an elegant rctifement be enjoyed in greater 
perkclMm, Her« he to(^ much delight va exereiring his goo4 
offices for the benefit of Ina poorer ne^bours, BdmaasUaing 
relief in their distress and me^ine in aekness) and practis- 
iRf; charky with that cheerful spkit which God lovetlt. The 
ts) years which be spent at thb place were, by the lavoar of 
Ood, retoaiftably peaceful and serene ; and he chn-iahed the 
remembrance of tfaem tbroDgh the rest of his liffe H» 
thmijE^Es at the time may be best described by himself, in 
BCOte extracts firon a paper which he read to his servants «ik 
Easter-eve, when he was preparmg for bis departure> 

' There are par^cnlar periods in die life of almost every 
taan when he is called o^ is an especial degreej to reflect mesC 
serioosly oln his situation in respect to bis ^iritual concen»> 
Sadi 8 period I feel the pr«s^]t noment to be in my own life^ 
and sudt it-may be considered in a oertoia degree in the life 
of eveiy one of you. Whcnj aAer a' llang reaidenee in the 
same ^)ot^ on entire change of sceneis'gMng to take [riacd^ V 
any person a[^roAches the altar of hia God, it becooies par- 
ttctitariy nleoessary for him to re&ect bow he has employed bis 
time past« and how he may improve to greater advantage the 
tune tiut is to oome, if the mercy of his Creator ^ould- pro- 
long his existence in this uncertain. life. This should bedoser 
by all persons suitably to their situation ; but without pre- 
tending to point out what others ought to do, I can aifficiently 
convey my opinion, by desorllMi^ what I feel to be my own 

* The Brst coU^deration which presents itself when I look 
back oa the events of the ten years which I have spent at St 
Bonifece, is the immense debt of gratitude which I owe to the 
Almighty, for the blessings whidi I have «ijoyed during this 
period of my life. If we think of die melancholy state of the 
greater pwt of the world during the last ten years, and com 
sider how few men daring that period hare enjoyed so large a 
share of tr8n<)Bitlity and coibfeot as myself, what ideas dees 


THOUAS BOWDLEtt, Xfllt. 190 

ttria cons&leratkm n^gest of lbs Mlhigt of gnftiti^ iriMll- 
OD^C to be excited in tny bresiM mwwda tbe AltnijlM^ tHii 
petiset- of tbese mfircieB ; And tbis lends ne ilo theAwM ecttt* 
sidendidii, Hare I medb a; |troper use of the gretit blwsingit 
which barfl been bestowed on rate ? Ha<re I ergayeiibem tnidt- 
Ihankfliliieaa) or have I perf ersefy rtfilMd to hi ksppj^, tttaM 
I ought to have bsen so ? Have I exptested my gratitiride lc» 
Ahnigb^ Ood for the btesttq^ which be bra Bestow^ dm tnCff 
b^ emiuvouring to coEUnanieaie diem to my Aillcnr-ioreiiUreif 
and hare I endtoioared to deserre tolppihess iny§elf, b^ stitv 
it^ to proiAot* tbe ht{)piness of those who are placed withnk 
the reach of my exertions 7 Whatever ddects^ or fiiUltf, «# 
crJBi^Sf- } mty (Slw6ver in my own coodud: (and let nie observe' 
to yon Itrnt we often dadly dec«ive oiwselvea with reapact w 
the name and ibe ddgMe of bla«i« wbidi we ought Uy tabok 
to various iOGfencee ^ otir midedildiHJt)^ whatever, 2 tayt I 
can tbtfs discover ki myedf^ I ov^ hitfnbly to eeakes, at tbe 
alttr ef tnj God, askbg bis paftkm^lbl- whaf is pasti ftr'tlUF 
merits of Dly SavioM wbosfa deetii ie tbere eomntefotentiefl^^ 
and Itnplorbg the aasktaoee of his Hotir Spirit to reader taf 
e6brtfi fer the futttne Aioce suooeAsAit in endeavouring te Af*oidl 
the repetition of those (^tWes. An^ here it is my dut^ ttf) 
confesvi not 4>nly whalt I kaVe dona ^t is wron^But ilsaf 
what I have n^Iedted to doj' which ttljf duly M> God^ or to my^ 
neighbour esjoibed me to perform i pricing M &k »HM time. 
that I may, in diy new abode, bear iff arind thdSl^ OiAsi«u^ 
and make greater ocertioos (oi the jutui^ 

< When w6 ask for pdrdon of our otfeoB^ md ihtt aas^ 
ance of his Holy Spirit i^om- titi Almigfi^, we hwe it net 
in our power to mak« him any return tor Aose teerotn^ b«t 
he - has graciou^y been pleased to point oat the t«iUit Ou 
which he id willing to bestdw (hem ; tunatAyj that #e act bjr 
our feUow-efeatares, as we pray idm Co act by «&■ This 
bringb me to what I (Consider fes a very inqkirtBnf pai>t of my 
du^ at this moment ; which is, tbe (xHliplele fov^enaw of 
wteitever injuries have been dode to me dttrlAg my life m 
getMcal; iuid my residence U St. Booifiwfe in pa^cukr. I 
o * 



miut iiere observe* that the utualioQ of one man with respeet 
to ano^er, is widely di&rent &oin the situaUon of a pixv 
worm of the earth, in respect to his Creatcw. In the latter 
casej confession is necessary to obtain JbrgiveneM ; bnt in my 
opinion this oaght never to be required in the fonoer; I 
sbonld be cnncfa inclined to fear that my forgiveness of him 
who had injared me, was very far Irom what a Christian's 
QB^t to be, if X exacted ibr it such an act of hmtuliation as 
the TequH-ing my f^ow-creatare to confess to me that he 
had injured me. All that in my opinion I have a right to 
require is, that my enemy should alter bis conduct, and fcr- 
bearto injure me anymore. 
■ ':* As this anhject is very important^ I shall dwell a little 
leeger upon it, and notice one expresHion which is frequently 
' u«ed in common conversation, but which requires some ex- 
planaUofi, or at least should be used with great cauUon, if it 
be used at afi. People freqn<^lly say of the man wbo has 
done them «n injory, I can forgive it, but I cannot forget it. 
I.fear this -too often means that the; nei^er forgive nor for- 
get it ; and their talldng of it gives great reason to believe 
that this'is the case. In another sense, however, the expres- 
sion is very 'proper. It "is so, if we mean nothing more by 
it^ than that we nemember the ii^ry that has been done to 
UB, no farther,' llian to be on our guard In respect to the 
pM-son who has done it, and not expose ourselves to a repe- 
tkion of it.' This, indeed, it is right for us to do. Our safety 
requires it in many instances. Bat our remembnmce of the 
injury -onght to go no fartho-:; ibr it becomes criminal in us, 
if- we make tlieit^nries which have been done us a^subject of 
cm ccavenanion, thereby returning evil for evil. 

■> What: I bave further to observe, may be summed Up in 
a few words. To-morrow it will lie dor duty at the altu* of 
oar Ood, to ask his forgiveness of our oJifences for the sake 
of. our blessed Saviour, whose death and sacrifice will- there 
be commemorated, ^t the sarne time we ought all of us to 
piiay to t^od Alm^hty to assist us with his Spirit, to enable 
u^ difring the . remainder of bur:4ives tu av<ud those offaneea. 


which we have here committed, and to perform those duties 
which we have here neglected. We also ought all of us to 
express oar gratdid tluuiks to our Almighty Benefiiotor, Sor 
the good things which he has here bestowed on us. And 
this we should do, without suffering one sinlnl mannur to 
invade Our breastS) on account of those comforts being aboot 
to be taken away< Lastly, we ought to pray to Him moat 
fervently, that in die next change of scene, and durii^ the 
remainder of otir lives, He will bestow his blessing npon us, 
and enable as by his gracious assistance, so to conduct our- 
selves during the period that he may think proper to continue 
our existence in this world, that in the world to come we 
may attmn eternal tif^ through the mercy of our God, and 
the meritorious sacrifice of our blessed Redeemer.' 

" B^ng unable to obtain an extenuon c^ his lease at iSt^ 
B<«ufaoe, or to find enodier residence in its neighbourhood, 
Mr. T. Bowdier quitted the Isle of Wight in 1810, and in 
the dose of that year with much kindness took upon himself 
the charge of accompanyii^ his n^hew to Malta, and watch- 
ing Jiis health during the succeeding winter and ^ring. 
Malta tras a place of much intoest to him. It had been the 
residence of the friend <^ his bosom, Lieutenant-General 
Villettes, who had commanded there during some of the most 
important years rf the late war. Here, too, he was enabled, 
by his own observations, to form an opinion npon a su&jeCt 
which had always engaged much of his attention, the Com- 
parative temperature of the climate of the countries bordering 
on the Mediterranean and of the islands in that sea, and 
the choice of a proper residence for persons, the delicacy of 
whose health will not endure a winter in England. The 
result of his obsen-ations was afterwards given to the publit^ 
and will be noticed shortly. 
- " On his return from Malta he fixed his residence at the 
Hhyddings, near Swansea, in a small house situated on the 
rising ground immediately above the sea, and commanding a ' 
view of that beautiful bay. The neighbourhood of the sea 
was to him im .object of particular attention, as it secured to ' 


002 THOMAS aOWDLEU, £84. 

bim B mHd climate, and ttve benefit of seo-biHbing dming 
softie months of the year. Hera, therefiare, durb^ ^ &Mt' 
teen EUtKeeding years of his life, his wkter vtao mgtMHf 
spent; and from hence in the Eummer monthii he' iMde eX" 
corsions to EngUnd and Scotland, for the sake of tinting hta 
friends and relativea, or into foreign parts, either whh the 
same d^ect, or for the benefit of his health. With this last 
view he tried the waters of Spa in Germany, and of Bareges 
in the Pyi-ennees ; and at the call of friend^ip he undertook 
B journey to Geneva, to see the relations of GAieial VHlettest 
This was in 1814. In the following year he published a short 
view of the life and character of his lamented friend, who had 
died in Jamaica a few years before, inscribing * this humbts 
tribute of departed fViendship to those persons who feel plea- 
sure in contemplating, a character not marked by a few bril- 
liant ttchievenients^ but by conduct onifomdy good and 
amiable^ from the earliest to the latest period of lif&' This 
had been written immediately after the general's death, and 
was then given to his friends in England, Malta, and Jamaica. 
It is a shctft but vefy pleasing memoir of a most amiable man 
and excellent officer, an accomptished scholar, and a finuhed 
gentleman, who being employ^ upon very important ser- 
vices in fbrdgii stations during the best years o£ his life, was 
less known in this country than he deserved to be, but whose 
merits were duly appreciated by those who were ct^ble of 
Judging of them, and who at last fell a sacrifice to the aealous 
discharge of bis duty in an honourable but fetal station. 

" To this ' Skettih' bis bit^tttpher added some letters writ- 
ten during Uie journey which bad been lately ra«itioned( 
giving some account of Che state of France sooh i&iet! the 
abtfication of Bnonsparte. Letters written at diat time could 
not fell to be interesting had th^ inmseeded frmn tbb pen ^ 
a person of less information and observ«ti<»i. But Mr. T. 
Bowdler possessed mahy qyalities and many advant^es^ 
which do not kll to the lot of other travellers. He had fre- 
qn^tly visited thiU oountry, md was femiharly acquainted 
widi the lAngu^e, as well ad with the principal ebj^eta of 



CMrioGity; be knew Psris before the revolution, and could 
judge of llie change whidt hod since taken place in the dhui- 
nen of the |keople ; he had seen and admired in Italy maoy 
of the pictures and statues whidi had been carried from 
thence to adorn the gallery of the Lonvt^ and could tell of 
the ii^ury wtach sane of them had undergone ; be could attf) 
oat of bis way, and converse fluniliBrly with the soldiers or 
peeunts, as well as with persons of a higher class, and could 
report correctly the sentiinentB of tiie pet^ile. On idl these 
sotgects his cnrion^ was much awakened, and the account 
of what he saw and beard is given in a Very dimple and pleas- 
ing style Two <x three of his letters are interesting also, 
from the subjectB of whidt tbey U-eatj —the house, end par> 
tlculfltly Ae bedcfaunber of Voltaire at Femey ; the moun- 
tain and convent of ibe great St> Bernard, tile scene ef Buo> 
napturte's astotii^ing laan^ in 1S00) previously to the de^ 
cnive vtctoi^ of Marengo, all which hfe has described with 
great nmuteness ;: and, iBttly^ a sul^eot very dlKreitt itom 
boUt,. but more interesting to the feeling and beflievc^enE heart, 
ihe tale of ha Soeur Marthe, the kind ben^ettess of the 
prisoners at Besan^on. Tb all these is subjoined en Ap- 
pendix, containing seven ordinal letters of the late Madame 
S^izabeth, the sister of Louis XVl., written during the hor- 
rors of the RevolutJn^ and a prayer composed by her in the 
temi^e. In a few pages of introdnetion is given a bri^ his- 
torical account of thiii pious and amiable female, whose suf- 
ferings alone would serve, if other features were wanting, to 
stamp an indelible character on that bloody tragedy. 

" To tbese letters Mr. T. Bowdler afbrwards added a post- 
script, containing some valuable ' Observations on Emigration 
to FrMKe on account of Health, Economy, or the Educatiim 
of ehildfWK' 

< Quid terras alio catenttes 
Sole mutemus ? fatrite quia Kxut 
8e quoque fugit ?' 

" Such is his motto ; and it serves to mark the general ten- 
dency of his opinions. He does not discourage young bmh 



of &mily Bnd jbrtune from making a tour upon tlie continent- 
for the sake of indiilging an innocent curiosity, or a laudable 
desire of aajaititig information }- but he would check the 
eagerness of many thousands in thb eoantry, who imagioe 
that they can cbtaia health, and education, and all the com- 
forts and convenioioes of life, at a much cbet^r rate in 
France than at home ; tmd he gives some very useful advice 
to those who are resolved to make the trial. His principal 
object upon the first of these heads is to recommend a resi- 
dence at Malta ia preference to any town in France. Upon 
this subject he had taken no small pains to acquire inform- 
ation, having in the earlier part of his life vbited every French 
town On the shores of the Mediterranean, with the estceptiori 
of Hyeres *, which was then scarcely, if at all known ; and 
having subsequently passed a winter and spring in Malta. 
And the result of hb observations is, that thb island is secure 
from the sharp and pierbitig wind which will be found in 
every part of France from Antibes to Bayonne, and probably 
along the whole coast of Italy, Piedmont, Spfun, and Por- 
tugal. Upon the subject of economy, as welt as on that of 
education, he points out the dbadvanlages which English 
&mi]ies have to encounter; the little hope there generally is. 
of any reasonable expectations being realized, the certain loss 
<£ much that b valuable at home, and the danger of Contam- 
inattoD from the religious principles of the worthy part of the 

• Hj^m ia probably more free from ibe Bise and the Mistnl tliail any town 
In ^i'niira, and the provision! wbicb can be olMoined there ma; be had ata cheap 
rale. But let no one expect la find il, itbat it has been described to be, a ter- 
TCBtrial psrsdise. With very few rxceptioni, it is almost wholtf destitute of those 
oidcles of Comfnit, Which are of greM imporlanee to an KitgHih intalid ; ahd 
though it is sheltered in a very peculiar mannet, yet there is an opening ia the 
hills to the tiorlh-wcst, the predse quarter from which the Mistral blows. Per- 
haps ill chief advantage consists In its lying near the eastern eitremily of France. 
Hy£res is less severeljr viuted by the wind and cold than Toulon, wliich Isa f^ 
miles to the westtrard, and Toulon far less than Mandll^s. Nice is probably less 
Bubjecl to wind and cold than Hyjres during the winter, perhaps even during 
the spring also ; it possesses, in other respects, infinitely gresier attractions to 
Englishmen, and especially in the iipportuaity ^of a regular exercise of njigiotu 
duties, the comfort and advantage of which cau only be duly appreciated by those 
wlio have been eicladed from ibem at the very time when Ibey are most anxiously 



IVench petite, and Iroro the want of both religion and mo- 
r^ity amcHig the generality of them : may we not add, alas ! 
from the same grievous defect among so many of our couai- 
trymen who are resident abroad, because tfaey have neitlier 
character nor fortune to support them in society at hoine ? 
The remarks made throughout this postscript are truly vali^ 
able;t)iey are from the pen, not of a cynical caviller, who has 
only heard what others have' reported) but from one who 
bad se^i far more than has falleti in the way of most men, 
who was uncommonly accurate in his observations, and scru- 
pulously studious of adhering to truth in oil his assertions. 
Such a man is not likely to be deceived himself or to iead 
others into error. In truth, his remarks are well worthy of 
attention, not only by diose who may hesitate in their plans, 
but for the sake of useful advice to those also, who may be 
unwilling to adopt the general principles laid dowabythe 
writer. His own feelings deserve to be recorded in the lan- 
guage in which he himself expressed them, on the day when 
he landed in his native country. 

* If a man feeble in bis Itmbs, not possessed of firm health, 
H Jam senescem, performs a journey of above 1600 miles, 
twice crossing the sea and twice the Alps, and, after four 
months, r^ms to bis native country without having met 
with any accident, or having experienced the smallest mis- 
fortune, he certainly ought to feel grateful to the Almighty 
for the protection which has been vouchsafed him. I trust 
that my breast is not insensible to such feelings; but I can 
with great truth assert, that the foregoing consideration, imr- 
portant as it is, does not hold the first place in my mind at 
the present momenL 

' Returning from France to England, and once rpore sel^ 
ling my foot in ray native country, I feel a debt of gratitude 
to Him who ordained my existence in this island, which rises 
still higher than preservation . tirom accident or sickness. I 
compare my situation as an Englishman with that of the in- 
habitants of other countries of the globe in. general, and of 
France in pardcular. If I had been bom in tliat land which 



I yealerday quHled, I migfat have Deceived suob an edwMiop 
as woukl have rtodered me ipsenaUiIe to the trcths el Cbriatr 
iautf , aod to the duties whidi its doetiines inculcate. 

* Not eivo^iBg the advantages which we derive from our 
wdl-ooiutituted goravmcnt, I might, like the greater pait of 
-the neighbouring natioo, have 4t>ctuated in of»ui<Hi Iram des- 
patiun to anarchy. I might then have been tauf^t, as the 
yonth of tht; Pratcb reputalJe were tau^d, that dwidt was an 
eternal sleep ; and .deriving from that doctrine the naOwn^ 
conclusion, that if I ceald ooacesl my crimes from s worldly 
magistiate, I should never be caUed to aoeount by as «^ 
aeeii^ Judge, I mi^ have been te«^ted to partake in that 
vicious ^stem which has been, i will not say universal, but 
~ more geottol in France, tbao caa posaUy be eonoeived by 
those who have not visited that unh^ipy ooMOtry. I c(hh 
template with pleasure the reverse of ihe pietute. I was bom 
in a eountry, in whose churofaes the docbiiMS of Christiamly 
are taught, as I versly believe, ia a manner mmw canfonnable 
to the Gospet than in any other land. Without enthusiasm 
or superstitioo, eqoaOy removed from the Papa^ c£ Rome 
and the Calvinism trf Qenesa, the mild spirit of Chriadaoity, 
«8 it is taw^ by our Established Church, is calculated not 
only to render as better, but to render us happier «ren in 
diis world* and certainly to give us the hc^ jof etecoal bap- 
pinesa hereaftec 

' I SUB up the whole with saying, that, in toy opinion, the 
great advantage to he deriired by Ea^ishmen from a view of 
jbreign countries in genanl, and of France in partioOar, is 
to intseaae their attacbmeiit to their native land; to mabe 
them duly sensible of what they owe to Him who placed 
deir existence in this happy idand; and, of oquesc, sannble 
of the degree to which it is incumbent on them to act a part 
worthy of tibe station which bis memfbl |WDvideuce has aa- 
signed them.'-^Z^ito-zvi. p.I&8. 

" A Ucerary object of a very (fiSereat natare, but undertaken 
dae% wi^ a view txy tfce moral maprwrement of socutj;, new 



W^if^ Mr, T. Bowdler's f^Omtioa^ This was no les^ than 
pcesflpting the piaja of $bakspe«re to i^ putAiv, pMrifl«il 
&9ni wery thing that «mid oflfeod the nost dfUcste eye or 
stfuc, Upon 4«ia subject two (^ipioas b»v« previuled in n- 
btfima pi^>o$iliion to each other. While some ardent ftdniirers 
of our peet have refused to p«rt with a syllable of his works 
lest tUs beauty of tfcie whi4« sboiild he diminished, odiors 
have 'desired (o eydude him fttina their shelves, Jest ijiey who 
nad him should be contaiuifiat^d. £|)(tremes are geiiM^ly 
fai)lty> and hapjuly in this case s middle course could be 
adit^ted with less difficulty than could have been imagined 
till ^ triM was made; which wa^ild leave entire and vq- 
toucjied oU that is really valuabtei cemoving only that whiiih 
is ipdecent and ofifeoMve; which would take away the im- 
puri^ that huve gathered mpoo the surface, and tbereby^ 
finow to gre^r advantage the bewty and uiMforaiitjr pf the 
work. This was attempted some years ^nce by one of Mr- 
T> Qowdler's nearest relatives in respecc of twoity of the best 
plays. He h^n^elf aAerw^rds carried into ^xecutioq the same 
plan vifii r^ard to the whole uuinberi and in the year 1618 
published- ' The Faouly Sl^kspesre' in t^ volwne^ ' ip 
whi^ nothing is added to the origiqal te^^ bi^t tUos^ words 
^nd espr^pns lire o^iitfied, wh^ch capnot with pn^riet^. he 
read i^ifd iti 4 f^jpjly/ His otjj^ is thw Stated in a short 
preface to, the w^r^. 

* Jt certainly is my wish, and it has been my fitdidy* to 
eKclifde ffom tlvs puMicatiot) whatever is qngt to b^ read 

^otfd by a gant!ei9Hm to A c<Hnp4Py of ladies. I can hardly 
imfl^pe a more ptea^g ocuwpaiion fw a winter's eveou^ in 
the country, than for a &ther to read one of Shakspeare's 
pli^f fo his toily cil^ My ottject is to eoflble him to do 
^ so, withQiit ^»rring the danger ^f falling ufuiwf^^ amoi^ 
words. <ff eiFpre^ions, vhich are of such a nature as to rais^ 
a Wush on the *h«k "rf Oiodeety. Pr render it iwcessary for 
i^». tt»4er tp p«u«« wd *»«iine tbs s*i(jvd, before he pro- 
flU^.^u^bw i» itfie snWrtninuwRt ^t^ eveijing.' — p,». 



" To diose who desire to prohibit altogether the perusal of 
Shakspeare's plays, arguments of a difEerent kind must be 
addressed ; and Mr. T. Bowdler's nephew Has discussed the 
question in a paper, written on occasion of the first appear- 
ance of the ' Family Shakspeare,' and which has since been 
printed in liis ' Select Pieces.' But in reply to the objec- 
tions of those who, adopting the opposite extreme, are airaid 
of injuring the great dramatist by the slightest mudlation, two 
circumstances may be mentioned which have been brought 
forward by tbe editor ; the first is, that the folio edition of 
163S, is in many respects much more pure than the earlier 
editions of the plays, and in these respects may be deemed a 
Family ^akspeare : the second, that in representing the plays 
of ^akspe^e upon iJie stage, many indecent expressions are 
always omitted ; and without such omission the representation 
could not be endured. Are these plays, now, rendered feeble 
and uninteresting by such mutilations ? or would any one wish 
such things to be read in the family, which must not be heard 
in one of the theatres? But in fact, the question is decided. 
Seven years bare elapsed since tbe ' Family Shakspeare' was 
published in 1818; and a third edition is now on sale in 
octavo, and a fourth in duodecimo. Tbe merit of the work, 
therefom, may be considered to be acknowledged and esta- 
blished : the readers of Shakspeare will henceforth probably 
, be multiplied tenfold j the ' Family Shakspeare' will be the 
edition which will lie on the table of every drawing-room ; 
and the name of the editor will be remembered, as of one who 
has perhaps contributed more tlian any other individual to 
promote the innocent and rational amusement of well-educated 

■ " Having fini^ed his labours upon Shakspeare, Mr. T. 
Bowdler undertocdc another similar work, which he deemed 
of yet greater importance. As tbe first of our dramatic poets 
is in its original state Unfit to be perused by the eye of delK 
cacy, so one of our most celebrated historians bas rendered 
bb work highly objectionable, partly on the same ground. 



but still more on account of his hostility to our holy religion. 
To remove from the ' History of the Decline and Fall of the 
Roman Empire,' every ^ing that can give just cause of of- 
fence, yet leave the narraUve to be told in the powerful lan- 
guage of its author, was a task well worthy of a man of sound 
principles and correct judgment To this work Mr. T. 
Bowdler devoted much and diligent attention, and as his 
seventieth year drew on and infirmities increased, he made it 
his earnest prayer tfaiU; he might be permitted to finish the 
important undertaking. Thb desire was granted. In the, 
autuom preceding his death, the MSS. were committed to the 
publisher ; and during the few months which followed, he was 
envied to complete some arrangeinents, and to make a few 
alteraticHis which had been kindly su^ested by one of the 
histmians of the present day. The work has been committed 
to the press ; and but for an unexpected delay would have 
f4>peared by this time. 

" There was stHl one little object which he had much at. 
heart, namely, the paying a tribute of filial piety to the me- 
mory of his parents, and particularly of his fether. This he 
accomplished in a few pages which he wrote at Malvern in 
die autumn of last year, and which be annexed as a postscript 
to the fourth edition of Shakspeare, and to bb edition of 
Gibbon. It is preceded by some little mention of the different . 
members of his family, for the purpose of correcting the errors 
which had crept into the ' Biographia Britannica.* Aflier 
making honourable mention of his mother, he expresses his 
desir^ before the term of his own existence is quite finished, 
to place one wreath on the tomb of his deceased fether, of 
whom he says as Horace once said of bis father, ' If I were 
to begin life again, and were indulged with the choice of n^ 
parents, I would choose my own in preference to all that were 
most distinguished for wealU), dignity, or power.' The con- 
clusion of this postscript is particolarly interesting, as it re- 
cords the sentiments of the writer, within only a few months 
of the solemn event, the approach of which he there con- 



templates. After quoting the interesting letter inseFted bdow*, 
he proceeds : • — 

' " 'If these reflections ^pear interesting to ittrsngers,far mere 
d«^ly must iJiey touch the heart of him who now transcribes 
them from tlie original letter of his father. I, that at present 
hold the pen, am the boy, whose expected death was the cause 
of thmr bong writteu ; who, sixty years ago^ in consequence 
of a foil from a horSe, lay dying, as w&s supposed* in this same 
Malvern, where I now write. But I now write in contem- 
plation, not of the uocertaib death of wounds and disease^ but 
of the inevijiable death of advanciii^ yeans ; tooking forward 
ia humble fat^ of being again united to that parent, who, 
with such genuine piety, expressed his feelings at his ^i- 
proachiug separation, and final re-unioa with his boy. To 
the indulgence of that h<^e, nothing so much encourages me 
as the reflectioa of having never departed from^ tlie Jiath and 
principles which my.parents inculcated, both on my tendn*, and 
my riper years. Happy indeed would be the close of my 
worldly course, if tny conduct in life had, like my faith, been 
the some as my &ther's ; but in the coastderation of all my 
imperfections, I look to that Rock on which my excellmt 
parents placed their reliance, and to which they never ceased 
to advise their children to look up ; in prosperity, as well as 
advfflrsity ; ia the vigour of youth, and in the weakness of old 
age. Revered and beloved parent, adieu. 

' At veniet felicius cevum 
Quando tterum tecum, aim modo dignue, ero.' — LoxaiA, 

■ * EilTMt of s letter iirom Tbainas Bawdier, Eaq. to Arthur Aaneele; , Esq. 

*■ What stnLas me most In ^onr ktt«r, is iriiat you so kindly sajF to rae «itk 
T^ard to viiy deu' little boy. In fliif , and nrtry trial, X wish it> btlww u a 
ChriatiaD ought : koowiiig that I am as much bound in duty to iuSei what God 
inflicts,'as to do what be commande; but I know that I Ml in this aod'eTery 
tiling. I amrerf fond oflbe b^,Biid lliia toudmcaetoonaaTlip. A » tn hi« Mfl^ 
IhaTe^HttUDruofaopeorU; so IJtCle, indeed, that the bitterness of hii deatfa ii, v 
B loanner, orer frith |ne, 1 am trying to resign him, and all the pleasure I had 
ill Mm, not l>ardy with patience, but even with a cfaeerful s 
mbsion 19 At inl| of God. If olbn cm part ^th ihrir duldrei) U 



" Such were tbe occupationB, amidst which the evening df. 
his life passed usefully end cheerfully away. In the language 
of bis favourite historian, whidi he has adopted as one of the 
mottos of his edition of Shakspeare, ' Vbi aninius requievit, 
et mihi reliquam setatem procul a republica habendam de- 
crevi, non fuit consihum socordia atque destdia bonum otiutn 
oonterere.' — Sallust. Conversing with his Iriends or poorer 
imghbonrs diiring some hours in the morning and devoting 
his evening to his literary pursuits, happy in contributing t^ 
the hi^piness of those around him, honoured and beloved as 
he deserved to be, his life may be said to have realised^ be- 
yond that of most men, the des(7iption of the poet : — 

' An elegant aufiicieDcyi content, 
Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books, 
Ease and alternate labour, useful life. 
Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven.' 

" The prevailing sentiment of his heart was thankfulness 
to the Disposer of all things, for the blessings with which he 
was surrounded. This we have seen expressed upon leaving 
St. Bonifece; it was his first thought in the letters which he 
wrote from France ; it was his fevourite theme in his letters 
and conversation ; and it contributed gready, no doubt, to 
that peace and cheerfulness which he enjoyed. The near 
i^proach of his latter end was continually in his view, and Tie 
mariced his strength gradually decline, without dismay or' dis- 
content; expressing no fear, unless it were that he mi^t 
outlive the use of his faculties, and thereby become a burthen 
to diose around him. This evil, if such it be, and all the 
inconveniences and discomforts of protracted sickness, were 
averted by a premature dissolution, if at the age of threescore 
years and ten, it could be called premature. , Being detained 
at Swansea by transacting some distressing bnsiaess, he caught 
a cold, which, falling upon the lungs, in a few days tertnin- 

femines in the East Indiee, trom whence they do not Aspect to live la see their 
return, why should not I part with him to a fax better place, and to his infinilclf 
gteaitt adTHiUge, and where, too, I. hope to we Inm i^ain?" 
P 2 



ated His life. Fully aware of tlie event, he desired to receive 
the holy communion from the hands of s neighbouring cler- 
gyman, and conversed with him for a short time. That 
which he had long anticipated could not lake him by surprise : 
his house was always set in order, and he was at all times 
prepared to yield up hb spirit to Him who gave it. His &■ 
culties being entire, and his mind in its tull strength, he de- 
voted several hours of the day preceding liis dissolutiwi to the 
dicbiting of some additions to the little postscript which has 
been lately mentioned ; and on parting kom the person who 
had received his instructions, he expressed his satisfaction that - 
it was thus completed, and desired him to attend punctually 
at eleven o'clock in the forenoon of the next day, saying that 
he must soon set out on his long journey. A few minutes 
before noon, as his servant was assisting him to rise, he ex- 
pired without a sigh or groan. Thus, to use the words of 
one who well knew and highly esteemed him, the poor lost a 
generous bene&ctor, his nei^bours a bright example, and 
those who were more intimately connected with him, a kind 
and valuable friend. His remains were deposited in a spot 
which he had marked out in the churchyard of the parish of 
Oystermoutii, near the western extremity of the bay of Swan- 
sea; attended by a considerable number of the gentiemea 
resident in the nei^bourhood, who were anxious to testify 
tiieir sense of his merits, and their regret at the loss which 
they had individually sustained. These feelings were notctm- 
fined to the bosom of intimate fri^ids, or to the common lan- 
gnage of every day. The sigh of r^;ret was universal; all 
could tell that one stream of bounty to the poor was cut off, 
aad one powerful stimulus to active exertion and to the sup- 
port of sound principles, was suddenly checked. 

" Of Mr. T. Bowdler's charities no notice has yet been 
taken; a few words, will perh^s suffice ; hut so important a 
feature in the character of a Christian must not be altogether 
overlooked. He practised the most strict economy in F^;nl- 
ating bis own expences, and thus acquired the means of being 
bountiful to others, beyond what his means might seem to 


allow. To the charitable instituticms in his n^glibourhood 
he was a liberal ccHitributor ; and to all who were in distress 
be was ready to offer his aid. Nor should it be omitted that 
he had a remarkably kind and affectionate manner with him, 
which won the regard of those with whom he conversed ; and 
he was ready to converse cheerfully and &miliarly with all 
of every degree. The points however which most engaged 
his attention, were the providing of accommodation at the 
parish church for the lower orders, and instruction for their 
children. With these otyects in view he contributed Im-gely 
' to an additional gallery in the church ; and he printed a se- 
lection of chapters firom the Old Testament, for the use of 
the Church of Ijigland Sunday School Society in Swansea, 
to which he prefixed an Introduction, explaining the reasons 
for the particular selection which he had made, but contain- 
ing likewise several useful and interesting remarks on some 
portions both of the historical and prophetical writings, llie 
interest which he took in the school, and his solicitude to 
promote itistruction upon sound reli^us principles, may be 
illustrated by one cuxumstance. When several persons had 
withdrawn their subscription in consequence of a misunder- 
standing which had arisen from the appointment of an im- 
proper person as mistress, he promptly engaged to make 
good the deficiency to the amount of twenty-five or thirty 
pounds, and continued it for some time, till new subscriptions 
rendered it unnecessary. 

" By his will Mr.T.Bowdler, mindful of the blessings which 
he had enjoyed, and the source fix>m which they came, be- 
queathed twenty-five pounds to the poor of the parishes of 
Swansea and Oystermouth, and of Box, in which he was 
bom ; and a like siun to be given to poor persons wltliin three 
miles of St. Boni&ce, adding these words ; — 

*' < I consider diese last four bequests as bumble marks of 
my gratitude to Almighty God, for the happiness which he 
graciously permitted me to enjoy during a considerable por- 
tion of my life in the undisturbed tranquillity of these retired, 
V 3 



but friendly abodes of p«ac^ and religious, but cbecrful me> 

*' To the churdi of Swansea he aiao bequeathed a &vourite 
picture, pfunted by Saase Ferrati, in the following terms : — 

" ' Whereas I am possessed of an invaluable picture of the 
Virgin Mary and our infant Saviour, my wish is that it may 
be placed, after my death, as an altar-piece in the chancd of 
my parish church of St Maty, Swansea; thus dedicatiiig the 
picture to the temple (^ my God, in humble and gr^etiil 
acknowledgement of the h^tpy tranquillity with which his 
merciful Providence has blessed the evening of my life in this 
parish ; for this pmpose, I leave the above-mentioned pioture 
in trust to the following persons,' Stc. &c. 

" This bequest was gratefiilly acknowledged by the parisb- 
kmers at a fiiU meeting, where, dler mudi honourable men- 
tion had been made of the pious bene&cttH*, the fdlowing 
resolution was unanimously adopted : — 

" ' Resolved, Iliat the late Thomas Bowdler, £sq^ of 
Bliyddings in this parish, having bequeathed a valuable pio- 
ture (of the Holy Family) to be affixed as an altar-piece to 
the chancel of this church, the parishioners duly convened 
and assemUed in vestry on the 18th c^ April 1825, do most 
respectfully and thankfully accept this interesting decoration 
of the church, and with all due regard for the exemplary lite 
and character of the pious donor, do unamioously restdve^ 
that this, his tribute of Christian principle at tiie altu of the 
Most High God, ^lall be suitably honoured and carefiilly 
preserved ; and that this record of their jud^nent and feelii^ 
shall be inserted in the archives of the pwish, with every 
testimony of thor grateful and respectful consideratitHi.' 

" The intentiott of the donor would, however, have beea 
but partially executed, by adding diis cHTiameot to the church ; 
he had a higher object, that of bringing about an improve- 
tnent in the chancel, and ui increased accommodation for the 
poor ; and this, it is hoped, may be e&cted, measures having 
been adopted at die meeting to make sudt repurs and alter- 



fttioiis as may add conaidmibly to the decency of the sano- 
tuaiy, and to receiTiag a (xmsiderable portion of the large 
papulation of that parish to enjoy the blessings of divine won- 
ship. Thus, in death, as in his life, has this servant of God 
contributed to' the glory of his Maker and Redeemer, and 
the essmtial good of his felLow-^notures." 

The intentions of Mr. Bowdler in hie *' Family Shaks- 
peare," have been so grossly and generally misrepresented, 
that it is but justice to his memory to subjoin the pre&ce to 
the first edition of the work. 

" If a presumptuous artist should undertake to remove a 
mppmed de&ct in the TransfiguratifHi of Raphael, or in the 
Belvidere Apollo, and in making the attempt should injure 
(meofthoseinvaluableproductionsof art and genius, I should 
consider fais name as deserving never to be mentioned, or 
mentioned only with his who set fire to the Temple of Diana. 
Bat the works of the poet may be considered in a very dif- 
ferent light from those of the painter and the statuary. 
Shakspeare, inimitable Shakspeare, will remain the subject 
of admiration as long as taste and literature shall exist, and 
his writings will be handed down to posterity in their native 
beauty, although the present attempt to add to bis fame 
should prove entirely abortive. Here, then, is the great 
difi^nce. If the endeavour to improve the picture or the 
statue ah<Nild be unsuccssstiil, the beauty of the original 
would be destroyed, and the iiyury be irreparable. In such 
a case, let the artist reft'ain from using the chisel or the pen- 
cil : but with the woriis of the poet no such danger occurs, 
and the critic need not be a&ud of en^loying his pen, for 
the original will continue unimpaired, although his own la- 
bours should immediately be consigned to oblivios. That 
fihakspeare is the first of dramatic writers will be denied by 
few, and I doubt whether it will be dented by any who have 
T 4, ...-•,":.. 



really studied his wbrici, atid compared the beauties which 
they contain with the very finest produc^ons either of our 
own or of former ages. It must, however, be adinowledged, 
by his warmest admirers, that some defects ore to be found 
in the writings of our immortal bard. The luiguage is not 
always faultless. Many words and expressions occur which 
are of so indecent a nature, as to render it highly desirable 
that they should be erased. Of these, the greater part were 
evidendy introduced to gratify the bed taste of the age m 
which he lived, and the rest may perhaps be ascribed to his 
own unbridled fancy. But neither the vicious taste of the 
age, nor the most brilliant effusions of wit, can afford an ex- 
cuse for profiineness or obscenity; and if these could be 
obliterated, the transcendent genius of the poet would un- 
doubtedly shine with more unclouded lustre. To banish 
every thing of this nature from the writings of Shakspeare is 
the object of the present undertalting. My earnest wish is to 
render his plays unsullied by any scene, by any speech, or, 
if possible^ by any word that can ^ve pain to the mpst diast^ 
or offence to the most religious of his readers. Of the latter 
feind, the examples are by no means numerous, for the writ- 
ings of our author are, for the most part, &vourabIe to reli^n 
and morality. There are, however, in some of his plays, 
allusions to scripture, which are introduced so unnecessarUy, 
and on such trifling occasions, and are expressed with so 
much levity, as to call imperiously for their entsement. Aa 
an example of this kind, I may quote a scene in the fifth act 
of " Iatd^s Labour's Lost," in which an allusion is made (very 
improperly] to tme of the most serious and awful passages ia 
the New Testament I flatter myself that every read^ of 
the Family Shaksfease will be pleated at perceiving that 
what is so mianifestly improper, is not permitted to be seen 
in it. The most sacred word in our language is omitted m 
several instances, in which it appeared as a inere expletive ; 
and it is changed into the word heaven, in a' slili greater 
number, where.the occasion of using it did not appear suf- 
ficiently serious to justify its employment. 



T *t < Nec Deus interdt nisi dignus vindke nodus.' 

** In the original folio of 182S, the some alteration &om the 
old rpiartOB is made in a great variety of places, and I have 
fidlored the folio. 

" I wish it were in my power to say of indecency as I have 
sud (^ ■pmSmeaeaSf that ihe examples of it are not very 
numerous. Unfortunately the reverse is the case. Thos|a 
persons whose acquiiintance with Shakspeare d^ends on 
theatrical representations, in which great alterations are made 
in the plays, can have little idea of the firequent recurrence 
in the original text, of expressions, which, however they 
might be tolerated in the sixteenth century, are by no means 
admissible in the nineteenth. Of these expressions no 
example can in this place be f^ven, for an obvious reason. 
I feel it, however, incumbent on me to observe, in behalf of 
my favourite author, that, in comparison with most of the 
omtemporary poets, and with the dramatists of the seven- 
teenth century, the plays of Shakspeare are remarkably 
decent ; but it is not suffident that his de&cts are trifling in 
comparison with writers who are highly defective. It cer- 
tainly is my wish, and it has been my study, to exclude from 
this publication whatever is unfit to be read ^oud by a gen- 
tl^nan to a company of^ ladies. I can hardly imagine a 
more pleasing occupation for a wintei^s evening in llie 
country, than for a father to read one of Shakspeare's plays 
to his femily circle. My object is to enable him to do so 
without incurring the danger of fidling unawares among 
words and expressions which are of such a nature as to raise 
a blush on the cheek of modesty,' or render it necessary for 
the reader to pause, and exunine the sequel, before lie 
-proceeds fiuther in the entertainment <^ the evening. 

" But though many erasures have for tiiis purpose been 
made' in the writings of Shakspeare in the present edition, 
'the reader may be assured that not a single line,. nor even 
the half of a line, has, in any one instance, been added to 
the original text. I know the force of Shakspeare, and the 
weakness of my own pen, too well, to think of attempting 

Dntzed by Google 


the smallest inteipdatbn. la a Sew, but in very few 
instances^ one or two vordE (at the most three) have been 
inflsrted to connect the sense of what follows the passage 
that is expunged with that which precede it. The few 
words whidi are dins added, are connecdng particles, words 
of HtUe moment, and in no degree afEecting the meanu^ 
(rf* the author, or the story of the play. A word that is lets 
cdnjectiaaable is sometimes substituted for a syBontmons word 
that is ifiiproper. 

" In ^e folloiring work I have copied the text of the last 
edition of Mr. Steevens. This I have done so scrupulously, 
as sddom to have allowed myself to alter either the wonk 
or the punctuation. Othello's speech, for example, in the 
second scene of the fifth act, will be found as it is in Mr. 
Steevens', and in the old edidons of Shakspeare, not as It Is 
usually spoken on the stage. In a few instaaces I have 
deviated from Mr. Steevens, in compliance with the or^jinal 
folio of 1623. I do not presume to enter into any critical 
disputes as to certcun readings of * Judean or Indian,' 
' sables or sable,' or any thing of that nature, respecting 
which, many persons of superior ^ilities have entertained 
contrary opinions. The glossary (but nothing except the 
glossary) is borrowed from the editifu of 1803. It was 
compiled by Mr. Harris, under the dirtetton of Mr. 

** My great objects in this undertaking are to remove from 
the wridngG of Shakspeare some defects which diaainish 
their valuer and at the same time to present to tlie public 
an edition of his play*, which the parent, the guardian, and 
the instructor of youth may place, without fear, in the huids 
of the pupil ; and from which the pupil may derive instnio- 
tion as well as pleasure ; may improve his moral principles, 
while he refines his taste ; and, vidiout incurring the dan- 
ger of being hurt with air^ indelicacy of expression, miy 
learn in the &te of Macbeth, that even a kingdom is dearly 
purchased, if virtue be the price of the acquisiUon." 





W/E scarcely know of an; literary desideratum more called for 
at the present crisis, than a biogr^ihicaJ history of the church 
of En^end, written in chronological ordcTj and exhibiting a 
candid and perspicuous view of the prepress of reli^oua 
knowledge firom the time of the ReTormation. Such a work, 
properly executed by a mind free from prejudice, and accus- 
tomed to the investigation of moral causes in the afikirs of the 
world, would, we are persuaded, be extremely serviceable. It 
would be a pleasing thing to contemplate (he gradual opera- 
tion of the national creed and litur^cal services, upon the 
(^nions and manners of the pet^le, from age to age; but it 
would be particularly worthy of notice, to trace the connexion 
between religion and leaming, as furthered by the instru- 
mentality of a body of ecclesiastics, specially designated to 
the purposes of education. 

That laymen of excellent natural gitb and high attain- 
ments, have been, and are, both well and sucoessfiilly em> 
ployed in the important office of tuitHm, cannot be denied ; 
but the fact is indubitable, that the best scholars, and most 
accomplished personages, who, from dme to time, have adorned 
this country, were brought up under clergymen, either in 
some of the great foundations of learning or in private semi- 
naries. To this drcumstance, in a main degree, we scruple 
not to attribute that moral strength of constitution, which, 
amidst successive revidutions, has rendered Britain an objea 



of admiration, and an example of imitation, even to those 
states that combined for her bumiliotitm, and which still, per- 
haps, repine at her prosperity. 

We are not disposed, however, to confine the advantages 
of a clerical education to the pale of the establishment ; be- 
cause it is certain that the dissenters of diflerent denominations 
have most honourably contributed, in this respect, to the sup- 
port and improvement of the national character. Yet the 
principle is the same, and the closer the sulject is investigated, 
the clearer will be the proo^ that of the great mass of bi^Iy 
cultivated society, which distinguishes the British empire, a 
preponderating part has been indebted for its intellectual su- 
periority to tlie labours of ecclesiastics. 

In support of this position, we mi^t enumerate a host of 
learned and reverend individuals, who have established a 
lasting reputation by their merits as the instructors of youth ; 
though, while sd employed, th^ were little known beyond the 
sphere of their useful occupaticm. Some, indeed, like Vmcent 
and Parr, nuy have made themselves conspicuous by occa- 
sionally trimming the midnight lamp, and favouring the public 
with the fruits of their studious application ; but the &r greater 
number of preceptors have been too intensely engi^ed in the 
office (^ teaching, or too diffident of their talents, to appear 
before the world in the light of authors. This was the case 
with that illustrious ornament of Westminster, Archbishop 
Markham, and his no less learned friend, Dr. Cyril Jackson. 
We might also adduce other instances, as Sumner, of Harrow, 
Raine, of the Charter House ; and lastly. Dr. John Fisher, 
the venerable bishop of Salisbury, of whom, thou^ his mo- 
des^ k^ him from appearing in the walk of literature, it 
may be said, in the langoage of Xenopfaon, Toiyxpow toXu 
(ur auras hiftpor tv wetf ra tui\t» ipyov, in^v it i -Ktpt iKnyo;, Sisc 
il ail iMkirr). " He therefinre excelled much in all noble ac- 
tions, and much also did those about him, by virtue of his 

This eminent prelate was the eldest of the ten sons (nine of 
whom grew to man's estate) of the Rev. Jdm Fisher. He was 



born in 1748, at Hampton, in Middlesex. - His father having 
married MbsE. Laurensjof Htunpton, of which village he was 
the curate, soon after became acquwnted with Dr. Thomas, 
bishop of Winchester, the preceptor of His Majes^ George III., 
was ^ipointed the bishop's chapltun, and went with his lord- 
ship to Peterborough, of which place he became the vicar, as 
well as prebendary of Preston, in the cathedral of Salisbury. 
About the year 1 768, Mr. Fisher removed with bis &nily to 
the Isle of Wight, where his old patron gave bim the living 
of Calboum, in which he continued until his death. 

Dr. Fisher received the earli^t part of his education at the 
Free school in Peterborough, and was thence removed to 
St. Paul's school, under that able but eccentric scholar 
Dr. Thicknesse. Having acquired in this celebrated seminary 
8 good stock of classical knowledge, he was sent by his father, 
in 1766, as a commoner to Peterhouse, Cambridge^ over which 
society the learned recluse. Dr. Edmund Law, afterwards 
Bishop of Carlisle, then presided. Here Mr. Fisher contracted 
an intimacy with the son of the master, Mr. Edward Law, 
afterwards Lord Ellenborough, and Chief Justice of England. 
He lived also on the same fnendly footing with the other 
branches of that &mily, particularly Dr. John Law, then of 
Christ's-college, and afterwards bishop of Elphin, under whom, 
as one of the moderators with Mr. (now Sir) Robert Graham, 
baron of the exchequer, Dr. Fisher took his first d^ree in 
1770, with extraordinary reputadon among the leadingwrang- 
lers of that year. Two years after this, he succeeded to an 
approprkted, or Northamptonshire fellowship, in St. John's- 
colle^, and at the same time completed his degrees in arts. 
He now became a tutor of his coU^e, in which capacity he 
acquired ctmsiderable distinction, and was gre^y esteemed, 
not only for his various talents, but for the suavi^ of his 
tnnper, anid. the pectdiarly felicitous manner with which he 
conveyed instruction. He was engaged as private tutor to 
Prince Zartorinski Poniatowski, and afterwards to Mr. St. 
Oeorge, son of the late archbishop of Dublin, who dyings 



Df. Fisber was for Eotne time with Sir J. Cradock, the late 
governor of the C^e of Good Hope. However, deriving no 
very great advantage from these connections, he accepted the 
curacy of Hampton, 

An extraordinary and unforeseen event occurred about 
that period. The late eminent Dr. Powell, Master of St. 
John's-colleg^ Cambridge, having been presented by that 
Society with the living t^ Freshwater, in the Isle <^ MHght, 
Cfmtracted an mtimacy with Dr. Fisher's iadier; and it was 
in consequence of Dr. Powdl's recommendation, that Dr. 
Fisher became a candidate for the fellowship which he ob- 
tained in St John's-college. Dr. Powdl dying soon after, a 
steong contest took fiace for the vacant headship, between 
Dr. Chevalier and Dr. Beadon. Parties ran very h^h ; and 
Hr, Fisher naturally engaged with his friends, the junior part 
of tbe college. In siqiport of Dr. Chevalier, the knoxm friend 
<^ his patron, Dr. Poweli. Applications were made to Dr. 
Fisher's father, by the nunist«r, Lord North, by Lord Sand- 
wich, and by oth^ men of high rank and station, his old and 
particular friends ; and above all, by the lata Bi^iop of Win- 
chester, his immediate patron ; calling upon faim In the 
strongest terms to prevail on his son to vote in &vour of Dr. 
Beadon. The good old man, bowever, was too honourable 
to wish his son to be induced by any mcdves of interest to 
desert vhat be considered a just cause, and to act in of^wsi- 
tion to his conscience ; and, therefore, left him to dedde for 
himself; and Dr. Fisher being influenced by similar feelings, 
determined, notwitlistaudiDg all t^e entreaties he received, 
and the promises vriiich were hdld oat te him, to adhere to 
his friend's friend. The election was in Dr. Ouvalier's &- 
vour; an event princ^aUy owing to Dr. Fidiei^s exei^ 

To his conduct cm this occasion, which in the first instance 
threatened him with worldly evil. Dr. ilsber was himself 
accustomed to attribute all the good fortune of his future life. 
Such was the high character which he obtained by his ia^ 



flexible integrity, that when oor late revered Muiarch applied 
to Bishop Hurd, to recomaiend him a person properly quft- 
lified to become the private tutor of Prince Edward, previous 
to his reonoval to Gottingen, that great prelate, wi^omt hesi- 
talion, named Dr. fisher, who accepted tite ofBce, and re 
moved to Windsor. This was in 1780; in which year he 
proceeded B. D. and soon after he was sworn in one of 
His Majesty's cbaplaios in ordinary, and appmnted a dqwty 
derk of the closet, with a certain assurance of iiirther ad- 
vancement. With the King he soon became a very great and 
deserved favourite, on account of his imaiifected piety, luid thC' 
perfect simplicity of his manners. The fidelity with which, 
he discharged his important trust as the tutor of Prince Ed- 
ward is best illustrated in the hisury of his Royal Highness- 
when he became Doke of Kent. Certain it is, that the con- 
duct of the preo^itor was duly appreciated both by the illus- 
trious pupil, and by his august parent; the one treating him, 
through life, with gratitude, and the King widi almost un- 
bounded confidence. So pleased, indeed, was His Majes^ 
with the &cile mode of communicating knowledge which dis- 
tinguished the instructor of his son, and so gratified was he 
vnth. the solid foundation of moral principle laid in the mind 
of the Prince, without pedantry, that when, mimy years after, 
caUed upon to provide for the education of the presumptive 
heiress to the crown, though then in her infiincyr the King 
found not the smallest difficulty in determining his dboice of 
a beacber. 

In 1783, Dr. fisher was elected a fellow of the Society of 
Antiquaries. In 1 785, his attendance upon Prmce Edwardi 
ceasing on bis Royal Highnesses going to Germany, to fitush 
his education diere, he went to Italy far bis health ; bat was 
recalled fi»m Naples ui 1786, being ^pointed by His- 
M^esty a canon of Windsor, upon liie death of Dr. John 
Boatock, who had enjoyed that situation for thirty years. 

On the 5th of September, 1787, Dr. Fisher married^ 
Dorothea, only daughter of John Freston Scrivenor, Esq., of 



ISbton Abbey> Suffolk ; by whom he had one son, and two 

In 1789, he proceeded D.D. — On the bishopric of Exeter 
becoming vacant, by the death of Dr. Ribald Coiut^iay, 
His Majesty at once nominated Dr. Fisher to that se^ and 
on Uie 17th of July, 1803, the consecratJon took plac^ in 
Lambeth chapel, wh^% also Dr. Thomas Burgess was then 
abt apart, with the same solemnity, to the govenunent of the 
diocese of St David's ; the sermon being preached by Mr. 
Ralph Churlon, of Brazennose-coUege, Oxford. Two such 
prelates have not often been consecrated ti^tber ; both b^ng 
men of great learning remarkably modest, and unaffectedly 
pious. Of both it may be s^d, that though they did not 
refuse the ^iscopal chair, they neither of them sought it; 
and when the dignity was offered them, it came upon them 
by surprise. The King himself first communicated his inten- 
tion to Dr. Fbher, who, of course received the gradous 
proffer with the respect due to his Sovereign. Of the other 
right reverend prelate, we shall here take the liberty of re- 
lating an anecdote which is highly honourable to all the 
parties concerned. 

Dr. Burgess, it is well known, was patronized in early 
life by the present venerable Bishop of Durham, at that time 
Bishr^ of Salbbury, who made him his chi^lain, and gave him 
hb first preferment. The doctor received his education at 
Winchester school, where he was contemporary with Mr. 
Addington, now Lord Sidmouth. After the elevation of that 
statesman to the office of prime minister, he took an oppor- 
tuni^ of addressing the Bbhop of Durham in. the H<Htse of 
Lords, and, asking, whether hb old friend and schoolfellow 
Burgess was in town, said, that he thought it very unkind to 
be neglected by him, and at the same time begged the prelate 
to let him know that he wished to speak with htm the next 
day* Tlie good bishop delivered the friendly message, and 
his chaplain, of course, waited upon Mr. Addington. on the 
followiog morning, and afler some.ocmversationalKHit fbnner 
days, at parting, the premier said, * Well, since you have 



condescendec) to visit me at last, it shall not be said that you 
have been with the piinie minister for nothing; so I have the 
pleasure of itddressing you as Bishc^ of St. David's.' This 
was on the death of Lord George Muiray ; the caag^ d'elire 
was made out immediately ; and in what manner the episcopal 
function has been discharged, the whole principally of Wales 
will bear ample and grateful testimony. 

We have already observed, that Dr. Usher's merit, both 
as to ability and integrity, was powerfully evinced by the 
flattering attention which be at all times jeceived Irom his 
Majesty King George the Third, Uion whom no one was 
better able to discern, or more willing to appreciate, what was 
truly and intrinsically valuable. Of the high opinion which 
his Majesty entertained of the bishop, no stronger proof 
could be given than that he was selected, towards the end of 
the year 1803, to superintend the education of her Royal 
Highness, the Princess Charlotte of Wales ; the presumptive 
hfflr to the throne of these realms ; an office of np ordinary 
magnitude at any time ; but in that case, and under the pe- 
culiar circumstances in which the Royal Family were placed, 
one of singular difficulty and responsibility. It is matter of 
general notoriety that the bishop had frequent trials, and 
some of them exceedingly painful ones too, for the exercise 
of his patience; insomuch, that nothing but a profound re- 
spect for his sovereign could have induced him to continue in 
the important and honourable charge with which he was in- 
trusted. By perseverance and mildness, uideed, he overcame 
most of Uie obstacles which, for a considerable time, em- 
barrassed and distressed him ; so that, at length, ihe service, 
instead of bdng irksome proved extremely pleasant. He 
constantly made it a point to endeavour to mould the temper 
of bis royal pupil according to that principle%)f self-com- 
mand, which he had so eminently acquired for his owi^ 
government. It is well known, that the Princess Chariotte 
was, at one period, of so very impetuous a diqiosition, as to 
occasitMi the bishop considerable trouble. At Jength, he de- 



sired Her Boyal Hi^iness to Icam tbese lines pf Pope's Uni- 
yfirwl Pray«rj — 

■" Teach me to feel another's woe, 

To hide the fault I see ; 

That mercy I to others show. 

That niercy show to me." 

Having fixed the stanzas stronglj? in the tnemot^ of the 
Princess, he b^^ed her, whenever she found her resenbnent 
rising against any on^ to repeat the verse which she had 
leattnt; and though sometimes youthful heat would get &e 
better of the jnoniticH), yet generally the lesson had a good 
eG^ect. — One day the bish(^ came into a Toom where die 
Princess wps scolding with great vehemence a very young 
female domestic, who stood trembling before her, widi(»it 
being suffered to stir out of t^e roj-al presence. Having dis- 
niissed the poor culprit, whose t^nce iwas ^oF the moat trivial 
description, hb lordship usked the angry Princess, whether 
she had repeated the lesson which she had been taught. 
** Ko," said she, " I was in too great E'passion to remember 
that, or any thing else." llie excellent preceptor then re- 
ched the,Jines, and applied diem jio ,for-cibly to the occasion, 
that Her i^yal Highness bui-st into tears, and i^ntane- 
ously calliug for the servant, with a magnanimity which ^e 
displayed on various occasions during the short time that it 
please*;! Providence to spare her to the natirai, asked her for- 
^veness v^ the n^ost tender and feeling manner. 

In JSO^i iJr. Fisher became one of die vi<^presidents of 
the Bible Society. Tlie same year be made his primary 
visit^Lon of the diocese of Kxeter, beaming with Devonshire; 
lind the followtug year he extended his q>i3copal inquity 
tlirough Cornwalt. On b<^ occasions he delivered the same 
charge, which made such a deep impression on the hearers, 
that, at their unanimous and repeated request, his lordship sent 
it at last to the press. In this excellent pastoral address, 
which would have done honour to Cbrysostran, the amiable 
Bishop went over several points of importance as r^rding 
doctrine and manners. At the time of its delivery, two sub- 


jects particularly agitated the public Diind, neither of which 
has, as yet, lubsided, or is likely to lose that d^ree of interest 
which belongs to religious questions when taken up in con- 
nexion with parties. On the claims of the Roman Catholics, 
whidi were then urged with great vehemence, his lordship 
observed : " I am sure your good sense will anticipate me in 
thinking, that toleration is one thing, civil power, rewards, and 
privilege, another. When toleration is granted, that is granted 
to which all peaceable and conscientious dissenters have a 
claim. But when men ask to be armed with extensive and 
formidable powers, it is very natural, it is strictly justifiable, 
it is highly prudential, to ask, how power has been used by 
thb sect in tame past? If doctrines sanctioned by the highest 
auliiority in the Church of Rome, have never, by the same 
authority, been repealed or disavowed, it cannot reason^^ 
be expected, that their practices (if the means of execution 
' were allowed) would be materially different. It is a.well- 
' known truth, that fiMm no one principle wliich the^Church of 
Rome has ever authoritatively made, it lias ever atdhonfatively: 

The other point on which the Bishop f elt hims^ called,, by/ 
his intercourse with the clergy, to ^ve 'his opinio, was^ tti6.' 
alleged Calvinism of the Church of Engiland; aicharge, as he 
■ observed, perfectly groundless, and ffatly contrad& the 
articles themselves, where universal redemption- u. stated 'in 
express terms, as well as the possibility of falling fiom grace. 
On Calvinism itself, the -Bishop says : « 1 confess' l never' 
could be induced to think, that the doctrines peoiA*ar to 
Calvin (for of such only I speak) are analogous to those i^^a^ 
which all religion, natural as well as revealed, suggests to y/^ 
concerning the perfections of a God. It was wisely obaerv«l 
by an ancient philosopher, that peculiar care was to be taken 
in obtaining sound and right sentiments concerning the peity 
and his attributes. Whatever perversity of opinion enters 
into men's creeds <m this head, must, in a great measure 
tincture their whole conduct ; and, I think, it can scarcely be 
denied, that (he conceptions of those who are biassed towarde 


Calvinism, seem peculiar)^ t;aI.cHla|t^(l to influence and keep 
alive a spirit of fanatjcisiji^ not altogetber recopcileable with 
true charity and humility. Those who c^n ^ork thems^ves 
up to a persuasion, that from ajl eternity they have be,en the 
designated vessels of the Piyine favour, without any reference 
to thdr virtue, their moral coodMct, or eypn their ^itb, will 
naturally he elated with a fanatic presumption, little calculated 
to lender them mojral in their dealings, mild in their deport- 
ment, pr submissive to those whom it has pleased Providwipe 
lo place oyer them-" 

In 1806, Dr. Fisher pr€;ached the anniyersary sermon fit 
the meeting of the charity-schools, before the Society for Pro- 
moting Christian Knowledge, in St. Paul's cathedral. On 
ihe 25th of February, 1807, being the day appointed for a 
general Fas^ he preached a sermon before the House of Lords 
in Westminster A,bb^. In this admiraUe discourse, his lord- 
,ship took occasion to enter minutely inlo the want of places of 
worship in the large outlying parishes of the metropolis, 
where the increase of the population obviously called for »n 
additional number of churches and chapels. The observation 
produced a lively effect at the time, but owing to the pressure 
of the war, no, plan adequate to the necessity could then be 
adopted by the governmentj and without that support, the 
benevolent suggestions of tlie Bishop were hardly practicable. 
He had the pleasure, however, to see his ideas, at a sub- 
sequent period, taken up actively, and o,n An extensive scale, 
■ both by parliameijt and by .the people. 

On the death ,of t(iat distinguished scholar. Dr. John 
Douglasj in 1607, Dr. Fishpr was trasslated to the diocese of 

It 1618 was piinted, at Guernsey, a sermon wliich his 
lordship preached at the consecration of St James's Church in 
that island ; and with this the list of his publications ends : for 
though no divine of his rank was better qualified to instruct 
men from the press, as well as from the pulpit (for he was a 
most accomplished scholar), his invincible modesty was such, 
that nothing but a compliance with established usage could 



have prevuled upon him to publish even the few diticourses 
here enumerated. 

Sincere and unostentatious In his piety, Dr. Fisher was at 
all times desirous to promote, to the best orbis judgment and 
the utmost of his ability, the cause of true religion and prac- 
tical benevolence. Ever the firm and steady friend of all that 
was valuable in society, his anxious wishes and active services 
were unceasingly devoted to the security and prosperity of 
our established church. In the peculiar duties of his diocese^ 
he was most exemplary and attentive'. Desirous not only to- 
correct abuses, but to promote what was beneficial to the 
general and local interests of the church, he was at all t\iiie» 
most readily accessible to his clergy. He was not merely 
their diocesan, but their father and iriend. To every thing 
suggested to him he gave a most willing attention and s^ona 
consideration ; and his warmest support and co-operadon* Uy 
all that was praise-worthy, and tended to a laudable object. 

In the relations of private life, they who experienced his 
excellent qualities will bear testimony in the poignancy of tfaeic 
feelings, to what, in language^ they will, find it impossible to- 
express. With all the cheerfiil vivacity and engaging ur- 
banity of manners which were the overflow «f a tiiily amiable 
and well-ordered mind, he was invariably modest,, humble^ 
kind, benevolent, and charitable, even to an extreme. 

The prindpat feature in the Bishop's character was the 
command of his temper. Suffering during life' under bodily 
indispoation, he was seldom heard to complain,' but bore 
pain with a patient smile, well known to those about him. 
He seemed to make it his first study that the mind should 
not partake of the irritability of the body. If an expressicot 
of impatience escaped him* it was followed by instant plaea~ . 
bility ; and a restlessness discovered itself in his manner, uiitil 
by some act of kindness every unpleasant impression was 
eSaced from the mind of the offended party. His anger'was ' 
never provoked on his own account: seldom stirred, except ■ 
when he heard the absent attacked, — a practice which he - 
never indulged in himself, nor was able silently to endure in - 



Others. It roused him in hit meet platnd moods. Vtoat 
ptide of place and person he was entirely tree.. And althou^ 
be passed the Urger portion of his life in the intoxicating air 
of a court, was distinguished by the personal friendship of his 
sovereign, and elevated to the highest rank of his profession, 
he preswved unibnnly his natural character. Mild, quiet, - 
and uiu«$unung, . )ie was always ready to attribute his rise to 
the preference of his royal patron, rather than to his own 
deserts. If vanity ever discovered itsell^ it was when he re- 
lated with honest pride the act of self-denial and integrity to 
whtch he owed Us «dvM)cement And this, he used to thank 
'Ood, he had had the grace to |iractise, and the king the 
goodness to appreciate. His unbounded benevolence was at 
-<»ce the omatoent-ond diei&ult«f!biat(^racter. He wished 
'to'oblige and serve everyjnan^thatJtpproached him; and by 
' his' orbentty and accessibili^^lie sometimes, |)erhaps, led the 
'lover-aanguine to entertain hopes whidi^noliuman means could 
^ realize. . Saiii. a disposition was incompatiljle '.wi& :Aie vice of 
-'KVirice. After his advancement to the episcopal bemJi, he 
- made it a rule to appr<^>nate a considerable portion cf the 
' revennes 6f each diocese JtO'iOharitoble uses. One procf <^ 
-his uncommon disinterestedness ^peared in his declining to 
' renew theleaseof the beet:Jii«twr ibelon^g to the tempor- 
"'.alities of the see of S8li!^«ry,.byjvbidijextraordiDai^ sacrifice, 
^ ithe:«um of thirty tbousaiul poHnds.&tU onto tbe^bands of bis 
excellent friend and fiucoessor, bi^bop^uig^s. Tender sudi 
cu-ciMSStances, it is not suiprising that Dr. Fisher left his 
l^jJHDprick as be came to it, master only of hb private tbrbme. 
' After a life of mueh, thougb uot ostentatious, acUvi^, this 
.Amiable and veneraMe pr^ate died on the 8th of May, 1825, 
at his htmse in Seymour-street, London, in the 77lliyear 
of his age. On the .16th -of the same monA bis remains 
were interred with appropriate ceremony ia St. George's 
Chapel, at Windsor. The body was conveyed in a hearse 
drawn by ^x horses, capmsoned with purple velvet covering 
^and r(cb plumes o( ostrich feathers, with escutcheons and ar- 
porial bearings. The bearse was ftdlowed by five carriages 


of the royal family, me of which belonged to Prince Lei^ld . 
also by three mounungMx>aches with four horses each ; the 
^nily carria{i;es ; the carriages of the Bishop of Bath anct 
Wells, the Bishop of St, David's, the Bishop of Winchester, 
and Bishop of St. Asaph ; the carriages of the £arl of Fern- 
broke, Earl NelsoRj Lord Bridport ; Wadham Wyndham, 
Esq., and several others. The body on entering St< Oeorge'a 
ch^>el was met by the Hev. Dean and Canons, together with 
the Rev. Mr. Gosset, the Rector of Windsor, the Rev. Mr, 
Sumner, and the surrounding clergy. The whole were dressed 
in their full canonicals. The burial service was read by the 
dean, and the body was deposited in a vault in the ch^el 
prepared for the purpose. 

Since the funeral, letters of administratjon have been granted 
by the Commons to Dorothea Fisher, widow and eiiecutrix 
of the bishop, by which it appears, that his personal property 
amounted to no more than 20,000^ 

A portrait of his lordship, as Chancellor of the Garter, 
adorns the great room in Salisbury Palace. 

Some notes which we were so fortunate as to obtam of hta 
lordship's life, have enabled us to correct and enrich the fore* 
going memoir, which is, however, principally compiled from 
the Imperial, Gentleman's, and Monthly Magazines, aa^ t()9 
Berkshire Chronicle. 


No. IX. 


or BT. I.DKE, AT ROME, Sx. &C> 

A FORMER biograp^r of this tighly-g^fted and extraof- 
dinary man*, thus -ably and elegantly introduces a brief 
\)ut spirited sketch of his characteF, illustrative of a 
resemblance of him from the pencil of his friend Opie : 

" To the reader who is about to peruse the history <rf 
studious men, the cultivators of art or science, it has been 
sometimes thought requisite to offer a jirefatoiiy apology* 
by lamenting the deficiency of incident necessarily attendant 
on their pursuits. -But is not this complaint -addressed 
■rather to one who -contracts his standard of intellectual 
-amusement to the wonders of a novel or a romance, than to 
the philosopher, whose extensive contemplation ranges with 
equal ardour over all 'the varied pages which fill the volume 
of nature? Tothe former, nlong fluctuating chain -of -acct- 
.dents, surprises, -And changes, is requisite to coAtinue-a sligbt 
3«gTee of emotion in his mind: the latto- ifinds, in a few 
short and simple records of mental jH'pgress, a higher gra»- 
tification than the revolutioas of fortune can supply. To 
him it will a|^ar no less an object of importance than trf 
curiosity to "trace the methods which -have conducted, or 
the -contingendes which have combined, to the attainment 
of ^eminence; and to such a <me no narrative, perh^s, 
could furnish more ample scope of instructive reflecttob> 
than ihe complete memoirs of the artist whose portrait is 
■ In the Monthly Klirror, for January, ISO). 



prefixed to these pages. It will be found even from the 
perusal of this short sketch, that it is not the mere impulse 
of unassisted genius which gives birth to works of classic 
celebri^, but that they are produced hy the slowly-maturing 
culture of the mindj by enriching the memory with the 
various treasures of histwy; by exploring the sources of 
learning; by exciting the ima^ation and strengthening 
the tnste, in arduous and experimental researches of the 
charms of poetry, the graces of art, and the imagery of 

" Sic mens, habilisque facultfls 
Indolis excolitur, Geniumque Scientia camplet." 

The fiither of Mr. Fuseli was an artist of Zurich, — John 
Gaspard Fuessli (for Fuessli was the family name); who, 
after acquiring the elements of painting in his own country, 
went at an early age to Vienna, and thence to Rastadt, on 
the invitation of the Prince of Sdkwarzenbnrg, with whom 
he became a particular bvourite. He painted portraits and 
landscapes with great power. Among others whose por- 
traits he painted was the Margrave of Durlach, who had 
a great-aflfection for him, and advised him to go to Ludwigs- 
bourg, whicli he did, with letters of recommendation to the 
Duke of Wirtemberg, who immediately took him into his 
service. Here he passed bis time agreeably, making occa- 
sional excursions to paint the portraits of persons of distinc- 
tion, until the war of Poland, when the entrance of the 
French into Germany threw every thing into confusion. 
Fuessli then removed to Nuremberg, his highness at parting 
presenting him with a gold watch, and requesting him to 
return when the state of public afiairs became tranquU. 
After remaining six months at Nuremberg, the Duke of 
Wirtemberg died; upon which Fuessli returned to his own 
country, where he married. This union produced three 
sons : Kodoiph, who settled at Vienna, and became librarian 
to the Eknperor. of Germany ; Heniy, the subject of the 
present memoir j and Caspar, n skilful entomologist, who, 
after having published several worics on his favourite science, 



died in the prime of liie. — Jotin Gospard FuessU's talents 
and reputation procured him the friendship of the greatest 
artists of his Ume, particularly Mengs, who sent him his 
" Treatise on the Beautiful;" which Fuessti published with a 
pre&ce. His taste for poetiy also gained him the acquaint- 
ance of Kliest, Klopstock, Wieland, Bodmei^ and Brei- 
tingber. Such was his liberality, that he gave gratuitous ' 
lessons to many young persons, and made ctdlections to 
assist them in their studies. In 1740 and 1742 he lost his 
two friends Kupetski and Rugendas, whose memoirs be 
wrote ; which employment was the fbundatiw of his " Bio- 
graphical History of the Artists of Switzerland," a work 
that displays elegance and critical jteumen. He died in 17SI> 
aged 75. 

The precise year of Mr. Fuseli's birth is not known. He 
had - the foible which is frequentiy found in persms of the 
strongest mind, that of unwillingness to talk of their ag& It 
is generally supposed that he was bom in 1739; bat this is 
only conjecture. Happening, some years ago, to meet with a 
litde German memoir of himself, in which it was stated that 
he was born ml741, Mr.Fuseli drewhb pen through the last 
1, and substituted the figure 5. An intimate friend of his, 
however, in whose possession the memoir now is, is of opinion 
that nothing but a littie forgetfuloess prevoited the * from 
being also changed into a S. 

But whatever doubt there may be as to (^ time, there is 
none as to the place of Mr.Fuseli's birth, which was ZiU'ich. Of 
his early years not much is known. He used to say of himself 
that he was a wayward ciiild ; that he frequently incurred 
severe punishment from his master by neglecting the tasks 
prescribed to him in common with the other boys ; but that, 
as soon as he was out of school, and free from the trammels 
of discipline, he could set to work, and study with great 
fecOity and perseverance. His mother was a very superior 
woman. Mr. Fuseli attributed niuch of his youthful infonn- 
ation to her instructions, and always spoke of her with the 
greatest tmdernees and veneration. 



Although young FaseU 6^ced, from in&ncy, stroDg indi- 
cations of the peculiar talent by which he afterwards so 
eminently distingidshed himself, his &ther, who had probably 
experienced the inconveniences and evils which too frequently 
beset die profession of an artist, determined to bring him up 
to the church ; and did every thing that he could to thwart 
the natural bent of his inclination. This opposition met with 
the iate which usually attends similar attempts. When will< 
parents and legislators take a lesson &om the amiable French- 
woman, who, on drinking a glass of deliciously cool lemonade, 
after having been heated and exhausted in the dance, exdaimed* 
*' What a pity it is not a sin I" The zest of prohibition being 
added to the gratification whidi young Henry felt in the 
exercise of his pencil, he devoted to it every moment that he 
could contrive to withdraw from his other occupations; and 
frequently portoined candle-ends from the kitchen to enable- 
him to sit up at night, and pursue in soUtude and secrecy his 
darling studies. !Even at that period, Michael Angdo was his 
favourite. His &tber bad an extensive collection c£ prints, 
especially after that great master ; and with their peculkr 
merits and style, young Fuseli, by repeated copies, rendered 
himself familiar. Nor did he confine himself to " servile 
imitation." Among the productions of his juvenile invention 
were a set of outlines (etchings of which were many years 
afterwards published), suggested by the perusal of an eccentric 
German novel, ceJled " The Hour-giass ;" and representing 
a number of fantastic imps engaged ui all kinds of mischievous 

He occa^oDally sold some of his little drawings to his 
school-feBowa. Having by this means amassed a small sum 
of podiet-mopey, and happening to foil in love with a flaming- 
coloured silk which he saw in a mercer's window, he bought 
it, and had it made up into a coat. The first time, however, 
that he wore this splendid habiliment, his companions laughed 
at him so heartily, that be threw it off in a violent passion, 
and could never bear finery afterwards. 



In order that he might be duly qualified for the sacred 
office to wbich he was destined, bis father placed him, at the 
proper age, in the Academical Gymnasium, or Humanity 
Collie; of which his old friends, Bodmer and Breitinger, 
were the most distinguished professors. Here he became b 
^low-student in theology with die amiable and celebrated 
LavBter, with whom he formed a friendship that lasted nntil 
death ; and that was then transferred to L«vater's son with 
unabated fervour. It was here also that he began to cultivate 
a knowledge <^ the English language ; in which he soon be- 
came so great a pr<:^cient as to read ShakspeiU'e with ease, 
and to translate Macbeth into German. He subsequently 
translated Lady Mary Wortley Montagu's letters into Gennan. 
Here, too, the writings rf Klopstoclc and Wieland operated as 
incentives to his muse; he imbibed an intense love of poetry; 
and produced several poems in his native limguage that met 
with considerable applause. 

About this period an event occurred, which proved that 
the characteristic energy of his mind was already powerfully 
developing itself. — Fuseli and Lavater had heard much <tf 
the acts of injustice committed by a ruling magistrate in one 
of the bailiwicks of Zurich. But although the ccnnplaints trf" 
his conduct became daily louder, and his guilt more evident, 
yet it seemed difiicult to obtain redress, as the burgomaster 
of Zurich was his &ther-in4aw. Fuseli and his friend first 
-addressed an anonymous letter to the Unjust magistrate, con- 
taining a list of his of^nces, and threatening a public accu- 
sation, unless he gave immediate satis&ction to those whom 
he had plundered. No notice having been taken of this 
\ettae, the two &iends made their complaint public, in a 
pan^hiet entitled, '* TTie Unjust Magistrate or the Com- 
jdaint of a Patriot," which was printed and introduced into 
the houses of the principal members of the government. 
The business was at length taken up by the council at Zu- 
rich ; a rigorous inquiry was instituted ; imd the authors of 
the complaint were calle*^ upon to make themselves known. 



Lavater and Fttseli immediately stepped forward, and boldly 
avowed what they h^ written, The inagistrate, however, 
did not choose to await the isstie qf the inquiry; but thought 
it prudent to pbspond. The restdt of the investigation was 
such as did equal credit to the patriotic exertions of the com* 
plainerti, and to the impartial adoiinistration of justice by the 
council of Zurichi The unjustly-acquired property was re< 
stored, and the guifty magistrate condemned to a suitably 

It was not possible, however, that an act of public spirit, 
such as this, qou\d He performed without the creation of some 
private enmity. There is reason to believe that young Fuseli 
felt the annoying effect of this enmity, and that it induced 
him soon after to qgit Zurich; but not until he had taken the 
degree of Maste): of Arts. Accompanied by his friend 
Lav(tter) he first repaired to Vienna, and then to Berlin; 
where they Both placed themselves under the instructions of 
the learned Professor Sulzer, the author of a celebrated 
Lexicon of the 1^'me Arts. The ready and apprehensiva 
talent which Fuseli discovered, and the intimate acquaintance 
that he had acquired with the Goglish language, induced 
Sulzer to select him, aa a person admirably qualified for the 
prosecution of a design which he and other learned men had 
formed, of opening a channel of communication between the 
literature of Germany and that of England, Added to thia 
peculiar fitness for the undertaking, young Fuseli, who, coit^ 
stant to his early attachment, derived from his pencil all the 
amusement of his leisure, had made several drawings,— among 
the rest, Macbeth, and Lear and Cordelia, — for Sir Robert 
Smith, the English ambassador at the Prussian court ; who, 
pleased with his genius, and flattered by his application of it, 
treated him with marked kindness; and strongly recom- 
mended him to visit England. The concurrence of so many 
favourable circumstances was irresistible; and the visit to 
England was determined upon. 

On parting with his friend Lavater, the high opinion which 
the latter entertained of him was shown by bis presentii^ 



htm vith a small piece of paper, tKautifully framed and 
glazed, on which was written, in German, ** Do but the 
tenth part of what you can do." — " Hang that up in your 
bed-room, my dear fi-iend," said Lavater, " and I know 
what will be the result." 

It was about the year 17C2 that Mr. Fuselt arrived in this 
country. On coming up to Londfin, his first lod;^ng was in 
Cranbourn-street, then called by the less dignified name of 
Cranboum-alley. A perfect stranger,— not being personally 
known to a single individual in this vast metropolis, the 
young traveller, notwithstanding the firmness of his charac-. 
ter, suddenly became impressed with the apparent (brlom- 
ness of his situation, and burst into a fiood of tears. — An 
incident which occurred to him at this period, although 
trifling in itself, also touched hb feeling and grateful heart 
so sensibly, that, in after-life, he frequently related it to his 
friends. Having, on the day on which he reached London, 
written a long letter to his mother, communicating to her the 
events of his journey and voyage, and expressing all the filial 
auction which absence served only to strengthen, he sallied 
forth to put his epistle in the post-office ; but on inquiring 
his way of a vulgar fellow whom he saw in the street, his 
foreign accent provoked a horse-laugh. Fuseli was much 
annoyed at this insolence; but was relieved fi-om his em- 
barrassment by a gentleman who, happening to witness the 
occurrence, kindly accosted him, pointed out the error which 
he had comtnitted in his pronunciatioD, and directed him to 
the object of his search. 

He did not, however, long remain in this desolate condi- 
tion. Having brought letters of introduction from Sir Robert 
Smith to Mr. Coutts, the banker, and to Mr. Johnson, and 
Mr. Cadell, the booksellers, those gentlemen received him 
i?ith great cordiality, and by every means in their power for- 
warded the purpose of his mission, TTirough their interest 
he obtained the situation of tutor to a nobleman's son, whom 
he subsequently accompanied on a visit to Paris. He also 
engaged -with ardour in literary pursuits. In 176S» appeared 



his first publication, ** Reflections on the Painting and Sculp- 
ture of the Greeks, with Instructions for the Connoisseur; 
and an Essay on Grace, in Works of Art ; translated iroin 
the German of the Abb€ Wlnckelmann." Soon afterwards, 
be was tempted to take a part in the dispute between Rous- 
seau and Voltaire, and to write and publish an essay in de- 
fence of the former. Almost the whole of the impression, 
however, was destroyed by fire. His name was not attached 
to this easay; and he was far from desirous of being con- 
sidered its author. Some years afterwards, at the table of Dr. 
AnnstroDg, the poet, (a great crony of his,) Armstrong chal- 
lenged him with being so. Fuseli neither dented nor ac- 
knowledged the fiict, but was angry at the assertion; ami 
stoutly contended that his host had no right to make it. 

Among the men of genius and talents to whom Mr. Fuseli 
was introduced upon his arrival in London, was Sir Joshua 
Reynolds. On showing several of his drawings to Sir Joshua, 
^at profound judge of the art inquired how long he had been 
returned from Italy ; and expressed great surprise at hearing 
that he had never before been out of Switzerland. The pre- 
sident would occasionally b^' from him some of his little 
sketches ; and was so much struck with the conception and 
power displayed in these efforts, that at last he could not 
refrain from saying, " Young man, were I the author of those 
drawings, and were of&red ten thousand a year not to prac- 
tise as an artist, I would rtject the proposal with contempt." 
This unequivocal opinion, proceeding from such a quarter, at a 
moment when Fuseli was balancing with respect to his future 
career, decided it He had been ofifered a living if he would 
take orders ; but he now determined to devote his whole life 
to pfunting. 

■ The first picture that he produced was " Josqih interpret- 
ing the dreams of the Baker and Butcher." It was purchased 
by Mr. Johnson, and for many years hung in his house ; until at 
length, being much cracked, and otherwise injured by time, 
Mr. Fuseli had it home, to try if he could restore iti but 
whether or not the attempt was ever made, we do not know. 


The state of the arts in England, at the period to whidi 
we are now adverting, was such, that no young historical 
painter could enjoy the means of heneSciol study. Fully 
' aware of the necessity of having recourse to the fountains ol 
excellence in the arduous profession which he had under- 
taken, Mr. Fuseli resolved to go to Italy. Accordingly, in 
the year 1770, accompanied by his friend Armstrong he em- 
harked for Leghorn. The vessel was, however, driven ashore 
at Genoa; and thence the -travellers proceeded to Rome. — 
The eager delight with which the young and enthusiasUc 
artist rifled all the pictorial treasures of " the eternal city," 
may easily be imagined. Of course, the works of. Raphael 
excited his warm admiration; but Michael Angelo, — the 
object of his early fondness, — Michael Angelo became the 
god of his idolatry. The master-pieces of that great man 
were for years the objects of his unwearied attention. From 
them be imbibed that grandeur of style which redeemed the 
productions of his future life from the consequences of an 
occasional inattention to minor qualities. So firm and broad 
was his pentul, even at that period, that the celebrated Piranesi, 
seeing him one day sketching a figure, exdaimed) " this is 
not designifig, but building a man." 

Mr. Fuseli did not confine his studies to Rome. By a 
very curious and interesting journal which he kept, and 
which is still in existence, it appears that he visited the other 
principal cities of Italy, and drew fi-om them all abundant 
nourishment for bis genius. Nor did he pursue the vulgar 
track of students who restrict themselves to a laborious 
Claying of the works of the ancient masters. His ardent 
ima^nation, indeed, was little suited to such a task. Re- 
tiring fivm the intense contemplation of the productions 
of those masters to his study; while he endeavoured to 
exalt his own ideas to the standard of their excellence, 
he poured oul^ on canvas, the glowing conceptions of his 
fiincy, regardless of any manner but that which nature dic- 
tated to Mm. For his subjects he most frequently chose 
passages of Shakspeare and Milton ; but he sometimes 



sou^t ih&n in the stores of his own vivid imngination. He 
sent several of his performancee to England, where they 
were exhibited in the rooms of the Society of English 
Painters. In 1774, a drawing by him, the subject of which 
was " llie death of Cardinal Beaufort," appeared in the 
ExhitHtiooof the Royal Academy; and in 1777, a picture 
of " A scene in Macbeth." 

While in Italy, Mr. Foseli of course became acquainted 
with all the Englishmen of rank and t^ent who visited that 
country; among the rest with Lord Rivers; who was his 
warm friend through life. 

Feeling that his mind had now acquired its fiill strengtht 
and his hand its perfect cunning, Mr. Fuseli, aHer a resi- 
dence abroad of above t^ht years, f^;ain turned his thoughts 
to ^Jgland, whither the invitations of men well known for 
their love of the arts forcibly attracted him. He left Italy 
in 1778. He first went to Zurich ; where he remtuned for 
six months with his &mily ; and thoice proceeded to Eng- 
land, in the year 1779. On his arrival, he found himself 
without a rival as a connoisseur in art ; and he soon distin- 
guished himsdf by his own productions. It will be seai by 
the list of die pictures sent by Mr. Fuseli to the exhibitions 
of die Royal Academy, inserted in the sequel of thb little 
jsemoir, that several of his works appeared in the exht<- 
bitions of the years 1780 and 1781. But the first picture 
which brought him into great pid>Uc notice was " The Night- 
Mare," which was exhibited in 1783. The extraordinary 
and peculiar genius which it evinced was universally felt; 
and perhqe no single picture ever made a greater impression 
in this country. A very fine mezzotinto engraving of it was 
scraped by John Rapfaad Smith ; and so popular did the 
print become, that although Mr. Fuseli received only twenty 
guineas for the picture^ the publisher made five hundred by 
his speculation. The origin^ design for this striking com- 
position, and in which the horse is not introduced, is in the 
possession of John Knowles, Esq. It bears the date of 
March, 1781. 

VOL, X. K ' ' ■ 



' It is generallj' believed, that while Mr. Ftiseli was At Hom^ 
be suggested the idea of the Shakspeare gallery, wbkh was 
afterwards so happily carried into d&ct by the late Alderman 
B<^de)l. It is said, however, by some, that the idea was 
purely accidental, and arose in a conversation at the dining- 
table of Mr. Josiah Boydell, the aWerman's nephew, at 
Hampstead ; that the company consisted <^ Mr. George Nio^ 
bookseUer to hb late majesty; Hoole, the translator of Ariosto; 
Hayl^, the poet j and West, Romn^, and Paul Sandby, the 
punters ; that after dmner, the snbject of historicat painting be- 
mg started, one of the party lamented the n^lect of that branch 
of the art in this countiy, when the alderman observed that 
nothing was wanted but a stimulus Ibr genius, which he would 
willingly furnish, if a proper topic could be sdected; that 
Mr.Nicol immediately motioned SAiakspeare,' and that the 
leKet was electrical ; every one present ^xmtaneously esc]aimr- 
ing, that a happier hint could not have been thrown out. But 
whatever might have been the origin <^ the Shakspeare gal- 
lery, Mr. Fuseti painted djj^t very fine pietures for it, from 
the playsof ** The Tempest," the " Midsummer I^hf s Dream," 
« Macbedi," the » Second I^rt of Hrairy I V.,"? « llenry V.," 
" King Lear," and ** Hamlet" The last was bis master-piece^ 
and was inferior to none in the entire collection. T%e scene 
is that of die Ghost, and it is painted with wonderfiil suUimi^ 
^concqition. There never, perhaps, was a greater testimony 
given to the efiect of any ^ncture, than was involuntarily paid 
to this performance by a celebrated metaphysidan now living. 
As a matter of favour, this gentleman was admitted to an m- 
spection of the gallery sometime Wore it was opened to flie 
public He began hb scrutiny with die pictures on the side 
of the room opposite to that whnc Mr. Fuseli's Hamlet hung; 
liut, on suddenly turning his head in tiiat du*ection, he cut^ 
a sight of the phantom, and exclaimed, in an accent of terrc^ 
'*' Lord have mercy upon me !** 

In 1T88, Mr. Fnseli was elected an Associate of the Royal 
Academy ; and on the lOih of February, 1790, he was dected 
a Royal Academician. 



Between the years 1790 and 1800, Mr. Fuseli produced 
his " Milton Gallery," a series of fortysev^t pictures, upon 
subjects taken exclusively from the works of our divine ltard< 
Tbey were exhibited during the years 1799 and 1800; and 
die extent t^tbe painter's inteUe*^^ acquisitions, of his lo6jf 
though sometimes certainly extravagant imagination, and of 
his fertile and eccentric fancy, was fiilly appreciated by the 
few who were cap^le of judging of such pi-oductions. Kot a 
piece but had its own peculiar merit ; though some were dis- 
tinguished by a superiori^ over the rest, too striking to escape 
particular notice. Perhi^>s,of the wholes "The Lazar-Hmise" 
was the most masterly ^fort It has been wdl observed by 
an able critic *t that &om the poet's ^pallin^ but somewhat 
^ckening descrq>tiofi, the judicions artist wisely obliterated all 
'tiiat spoke too grossly of human weaknesses; and r^ained on 
his canvas those " maladies" alone, which, residing but in the 
mind, admitted of jnost etherialily in their representaticHi, and 
required not that the human £)rm divine should be distorted, 
or curtailed of its &ir proportion, in otdee to convey the de- 
ffired ressmblaacc^ *' Spasms," " ^ilepsies," " fierce catarrhs," 
and ^ulcers," w^^.ldifbr the. en^aver <rf patfaoli^tcal em- 
bellishments to a bodC' of surgery; but " demoniac Fhrensy" 
is seen, starting from his iron bed, still entangled in the coarse 
rug, md still encumb^ted with the chain that feUed to secure 
him there. His wife, worn out with the long and tiumkless 
toil o£ watching him, has nevertheless made a last efifort to 
save hue &om sd^^destmction f but her strength bad all been 
wasted by her tbrmer anueties and exertions^ and she sinks 
at his feet, unnerved in mind and body, and with little more 
copsciomness titan yonder in&nt that lies half lifeless, just 
feUea.&on the sterUe breast of its dying mothw. This latter 
aaeue is a beautiful episode of the painter's introduction. It 
is, to be sure, an interpolation in the text of MilttHi ; but it is 
one of the few amendments whtdi (notwithstanding Dr. John- 
son) m^ be made without any *' token of a rent." But who 
that has once beheld " moon-struck madness," can ever forget 

B 2 



the livid glare that flashes from hev eyes ? Her child is \fAn\y 
striving to win a glance irom her ; — she is not aware even of 
Its presence. In the centre of the back-ground is " Despair," 
tending the couch of gaunt " Marasmus ;" " Moping Melan- 
choly" droops,- fixed, though fibreless, in the fore-ground to 
the right j and "over them," to complete the dismal spectacle, 
the gloomy, bat-like form of " Triumphant Death" hovers, 
and — . 

- hia dart 

Shakes, but ddays to strike, though ofl invok'd.** 

This exhibition, however, " pleased not the million; 'twas 
caviare to the general." In a pecuniary point of view, there- 
fore, it was very unproductive, and afler two seasons was 
closed. Of the pictures of which it had been composed, a few 
were sold, and dispersed in various directions. 

On the secession of Mr, Barry from the ofiBce of Frcrfessor 
of Painting to the Royal Academy, in the year 1799, Mr. 
Fuseli was appointed to succeed him. He immediately be^an 
the composition of three lectures, his professional avocations 
not permitting him to prepare more at that time; which 
lectures, the first on Ancient Art, the second on Modern Art *, 
and the third on Invention, were delivered with great effect 
at Somerset House, in March 1801 ; and were published in 
the course of the same year, with a dedication to William 
Ix>ck, Esq. of Norbiuy Pa^k, Surrey. 

Havmg held the office of Professor of Painting until tiie 
year 1S04>, Mr. Fuseli was then, on the death of Mr. Wilton, 
appointed Keeper of the Royal Academy ; and there being a 
standing order of the institution, that no member should en- 
joy two offices in it at the same time, he resigned the professoi^ 
ship.- However, on the deatii of Mr, Opie, and the subsequent 

• The fallowing note by Mr. Fuseli to bis sccouot of LBonardo da Vind, in 
hissecood lecture, is n fine instsDce of that maiillness of character with which, 
duHigh far from being a vulgar leieller of distinctioiu, fae iniariablj HKrted the 
superiority of gcniua to rouk : ** Much has been said of the honour be received 
by expiring in the arms of Francis the Firsts It was indeed an honour, by which 
deitin; in loiDe degree alOned to that monardi for his future disaster at ^via. " 


death of Mr. Tresham (who never lectured], he was, in the 
year 1810, unanimously re-elected ; and the Royal Academy 
rescinded the order above alluded to, to enable him to retain 
both his appcnntments. He soon produced and read three 
additional lectures^ the first on the resumed subject (^ In- 
wntioD, the second on Composition and-E^pressioni and the 
third oh Chiaro-scuro ; but they were not published until 1830; 
Of Mr. FuseU's profound knowledge of the history and prin- 
ciples of his art, and of- the' energetic and comprehensive 
manner in which ha was accust^ined to communicate that 
knowledge to the Students of the Royal Academy, they only 
can adequately judge who were so fortunate- as to be his 
auditors ; but the following introduction to hts last series of 
lectures may convey to others some idea of the exteHt-of.hig- 
learning, and of the power of his English style.. 

** It cannot be considered as superfluous or asEumuig to 
present the reader of the following lectures with a succinct 
diaracteristic sketch of the principal technic instruction, an" 
eient- and modem, whidi we possess; Lsay a sketch, for an 
daborate and meUiodical survey, or a plan well digested 'and 
strictly followed, would demand a volume. These* observa- 
tions, less written for the man of lett«% and cultivated taste,' 
than for the- student who wishes to inform himself (rf the 
history and progress of his art, are to direct him to the 
sources from which my principles are deduced, to enable him, 
by ctHnparing my authors with myself to judge bow fat th& 
tiieory. which I deliver may be depended upon as genuine, or' 
ought tO'be- rejected as erroneous or false. 

" The works or fragments of works which we possess^ ■ are- 
either pnrely elementary, critically historical, biographic, or 
Buxed up of all three. On the books purely elementary, the 
van of which is led by I^eonardo, da Vinci and Albert Durer, 
and the rear by Gherard Lairesse, as the principles which they 
detail jnust he supposed to be already in the student's posses- 
sion, or are occasionally interwoven with the topics of the 
lectures, L shall not expatiate, but immediately proceed to th& 



bistoricaQy critical writers ; who consiit of all the ancieDts 
yet remaiiuDg, Fausanias excepted. 

" We may thaok destiny that, in the general wreck of 
ancient art, a sufficient number of enliie and mutilated nioh[i<- 
ments have eBCt^>ed ttw' savage rage of baibnooG ctmqoest, 
and the still more savage hand of superstition, not only to 
prove that the principles which we deliver formed the body of 
ancient art, but to furnish us with their standard of style. 
For if we had nothing to rely on to prove its existence than 
the historic and critical information left us, such is the diaos 
of assertion and contradiction, such the chronolo^c confiisioD 
and dissonaoce of dates, that nothing short of a miracle could 
guide us through the labyrinth, and the whole would assume 
a fehulous aspect> Add to this the occi]^>ation and character 
of the writers, none of them a professional man. For the 
rules of Parrhasius, the volumes of Pamphilos, ApeHes, 
Metrodorus, all irrecoverably lost^ we must rely oa the hasQr 
compilations of a warrior, or the incidental remarks of an 
orator, Pliny and Quintilian. Pliny,, authoritative in his 
verdicts, a Roman in decision, was rather de^rous of knowing 
much than of knowing well ; the other, though, as spears, a 
man of exquisite taste, was too mudi- occupied by Us own 
art to allow ours more tbw a rapid glance. In Plmy it is 
necessary, and for an artist not very difficult, to distingui^ 
when he speaks from himself and when he divers an extract* 
however short ; whenever he does the first, be is seldom able 
to separate the kernel from the husk ; he is credulous, iire^ 
levant, ludieraus. The Jupiter of I4iidias, the Doryphorus 
of Polydetus, the Aphrodite of Praxiteles, the Demos of 
Parrhasius, the Venus of Apelles, provcAe his admiration in 
no greater degree than the cord drawn over the horns and 
muzzle of the bull in the groiq> of Atni^on, Zetus, and 
Antiopa ; the spires and winding of the seipent in that of the 
Laocoon; the efFect of the foam from the sponge of Pkoto- 
genes, the partridge in his J^ysus, the grapes tiiat imposed 
on the bhds, and the curtain which deceived Zeuxis. Such 



is Pliny when be qieaka trom himself (h* pertu^ (rom the 
faints of Bome dilettante ; but when he delivers an extract 
his infermati<m is not only essential and important, but ex- 
pressed by the most appropriate words. Such is his account 
of the glazing-method of ApeQes, in which, as Reynolds has 
observed, he speaks the language of an attbt ; such is what 
he says of the manner in whidi Protogenes embodied his 
colours, diongh it may require the practice of an artist to 
penetrate his meaning. No sculptor could describe better in 
many words than he does in one, the manceuvre by which 
Nicias gave the decided line of correctness to the models of 
Praxiteles ; the word cimmlitio, shaping, rounding the moist 
clay with the finger, is evidently a term of art Thus when 
he describes the method of Fausias, who, in painting a b&' 
criflce, foreshortened the bulla uid threw his shade on part of 
the surrouudbg crowd, be throws before us the depth of thi 
acaxetj, and its forcible chiaro-souro ; nor is he less happy, at 
least in my opinion, when he translates the deep aphorism by 
v^iich Eupoitapus directed Lysippus to recur to Nature, ood 
animate the ri^ fi>rm with the air of life. 

" In his datea he seldcm errs, and sometimes -adjusts or 
corrects the errors of Greek chronoli^, though not with 
equal attenti<m ; for, whilst he exposes the impn^riety <^ 
ascribing to Polydetns a statue of Hephestion, the friend of 
Alexander, who lived a century after him, he thinks it worth 
his wh3e to repeat diat Erynna, the cont^nporary of Sappho, 
ndio lived nearly as many years before him, cel^ated in her 
poems a work of bis friend uid feltow-scbolar, Myron of 
Eleuther£e, His text is, at the same time, so deplorably 
motilated, that it often defies conjecture Bud interpretation. 
Sdll, from what is gamine, it must be confessed, that be con4 
denses in a few duqtters the contents of volumes, and fills the 
whole atmo^^re of bsU Whatever he tells, whether the 
most puenle l^end, or the best attested &ct, he tells with 

" Of Quintilian, whose infonnation is all relative to style, 
iht tenth chapter of die twelAh book, a passage on expressicm 

R 4 



in the elevebtli, and scattered fragments of observations ana^ 
logtms to tbe process of his own art, is tU that we possess . 
but what he says, though comparatively small in bulk with 
what we have of Pliny, leaves us to wish for more. Hb 
review of the revolutions of style in piunling, from Folygnotus 
to Apelles, and in sculpture fi-om Phidias to Lysi^qms, is 
succiqct and rapid ; but though so rt^id and succinct, every 
word is poised l^ characteristic precision^ aiid can only be the 
result of long and judicioos inquiry, and, perhaps, even minute 
examination. His thecHy and taste savour neither of the 
antiqnery nor the mere dilettante ; he neither dwells on the 
infancy of art with doadng fondness, nor melts its essential 
and solid princ^les in the crucibles of merely curious or 
voluptuous execution. 

" Still less in volume, and still less int^tional, are the short 
but important observations on the principles of art and the 
epochs of style, scattered over nearly ail the works of Ciceroj 
but chiefly his Orator and Rhetoric Institutions. Some of his 
introductions to these books might fiimish the classic scenery 
of Foussin with figures ; and though he seems to have had as 
little native taste for punting and sculpture, and even less 
than he had taste for poetry, be had a conception of nature j 
and, with his usual acnmen, comparing the principles of one art 
with those of another, frequently scattered useM hints, or made 
pertinoit observations. For many of these he might probably 
be indebted to Hortennus, with whom, though his rival in 
eloquence he Itv^d on terms of familiarity, and who was 
a man of declared taste, and one of tbe first collectors of the 
time. . 

*' Pausanias, the C^padooian, was c^lwnly no critic, and 
his credulity is at least equal to his ciiriosi^; he it oflen litUe 
more than a, nomenclator, and the indiscriminate chronicler 
of Intimate tradition and legendary trash; but the minute 
and scniptdous diligence with wfakh he, examined what fell 
under his own eye, amply makes up for what he may .want of 
method or of judgment His description of the pictures of 
Fol^notus at Delphi, and of the Jupiter of Phidias at Olympia, 



are perhaps superior to all that mi^t b^ve been giren by men 
of more assuming -powers, — mines of information, and ines- 
tbnable legacies to our arts. 

" The Heroics of the elder, and the Eicones, or Picture 
Galleries, of the elder and younger Fhilostratus, though, per^ 
haps, not expressly written for the artist, and rather to amuse 
than to instruct, cannot be sufficiently consulted by the epic or 
dramatic artist. The Heroics furnish the standard of form 
and habits for the Grecian and Troic warriors, tram Pro- 
tesilaus to Paris and Euphorbus; nnd he who wishes to 
acquunt himself with the limits the ancients prescribed to in- 
venticH), and the latitude they allowed to expression, will 
find no better guide than an attentive survey of the subjects 
displayed in their galleries. 

" Such are the most prominent features of ancient criticism, 
and those which we wish the artist to be femiliar with ; the in- 
numerable hints, maxims, anecdotes, descriptions, scattered over 
Lucian, .Mian, AtheUKus, Achilles, Tatins, Tatian, Pollux, 
and many more, mtty be consulted to advantage by the man 
of taste and letters, and probably may be neglected without 
much loss by the student. 

" Of modem writers on art Vasari leads the van ; theorist, 
artist, cridc and biographer, in one. The history of modem 
art owes much, no doubt, to Vasari ; he leads us iVom its 
cradle to its maturity, with the anxious diligence of a nurse, — 
but he l&ewise has her derelictions; for, more loquacious than 
aoiple, and less discriminaUng styles than eager to accumulate 
descriptions, he is at an early period exhausted by the super* 
latives lavished on ini^ior claims, and forcol into frigid Aap- 
sodies and astrol<^c nonsense to do jusUce to the greater. 
He swears by the divini^ of M. Agnolo. He tells us himself 
dutt he copied every figure of the Capella Sistina and the 
Stanze of Ra&ello ; yet his memory was either so treacherous, 
or his rapidly ia writing sodnconsider^te, that his account of 
both is a mere heap of errors and unpardonable confusion ; 
and one roi^t almost fiuicy that he had never ertered the > 
YaUcvi. Of Coreggb he leaves us less informed, than of 


250 a£HR¥ FUSELI, £S4. 

ApeUea. Even BoUari, the learned editor of bis work, bi» 
countrymaa and advocate against the oomplauits of Agostin» 
Caracci, and Federigo Zuccbero, tbou^ ever xea^. to ^it 
liis battles, te at a loss to account for ^xi3 mistakes. He has 
been called the Herodotus of our art, and if the .main sim- 
plicify of his oarratLT^ and the desire of helping anecdote on 
anecdete, entitle him, in some d^ree, to that appellatkxi, we 
ought not to forget that the information of every day adda 
something to the authenticity of the Greek historian, whilst 
every day lurnishes matter to question the credibility of the 

*' What we find not in Vasarl it is useless to search for amiJ 
the rubbish of his contemporaries or followers from Ckmdivi 
to Ridolfi, and on to Malvasia, whose criticism on tiie style of 
Lodovico Caracci and his pupils in the cloisters of St. Michele 
in Bosco, near Bohigna, amount to little more than a sonorous 
rhapsody of ill-applied or empty metaphors, and extravagant 
praise, till the [^pearance of Lan^ who in his 'StorlaPittorica 
ddla Italia', has availed himself of all the infonnadon radstiog 
in his time, has corrected most of those who wrote before 
him ; and though, perhaps, not possessed of great discrimin- 
ative powers, has accumulated more initmctive anecdotes, 
rescued more deserving names from oblivion, and opened a 
wider prospect of ait, than ail his predecessors. 

" The French critics cottqiosed a complete system of rules. 
Du Fresnoy spoit his life in ccunposing and revising general 
f^horisms in Latin classic verse ; some on granted, some oa 
disputable, some on &lse principles. Thou^ Horace was 
his model, nuther the poefs language nor method has beoi 
imitated by him. From Da Fiesnoy himself we learn not 
what is essential, what accidental, what sopoinduced, in s^le ; 
from bis text none ever rose practically wiser than he sat down 
to study it : if he be naefiil, he owes his usefulness to the 
penetratimi of his English commentator ; the ncOes of Bc^- 
nolds, treasures of practical observatien, place him among 
those whom we nay read with [M-ofit. What can be leatnt 
from precept, founded on prescriptivcrautbority^ more than 

• Pcizscii/Googic 


c« the verdicts of natar^ is jdis{da;^ in the vt^umes t^ 
De PQss and Felibien ; a system as it has been foUowed by 
the former stadeats of their academy, and sent out with the 
euccesaful combatants for die premium to their academic 
establishment at Rome, to have its efficacy proved by the coa- 
tempIatifHi of Italian filyl« and execntion* The timorous can- 
didates for &me, knowing its rules to be the only road to 
sncoess at th^r return, whatever be tbeir lodiTidual bent of 
character^ implicitly adopt them, and the consequence is, as 
may be supposed, that technical equality which borders on 
mediocrity. After an exulting and eager survey of the won- 
ders the place exhibits, they all undergo a similar coarse of 
study. Six months are allotted to the Vatican, and in equal 
pordons divided between the Flert^ of M. Agnolo, and the 
more correct graces of Bafiadio; the next six months are» 
in equal intervals, devoted to the academic powers of Annibal 
Csracci and the puri^ of the antique. 

*< About the middle of the last century the German critics 
established at Rome b^an to claim the exchisive privilege of 
teaching the art* and to form a complete system of antique 
style. The verdicts of Mengs and Winkelmann became the 
oracles of antiquaries, dU^tanti* and artists, from the Pyre- 
nees to the utmost north of Europe ; have been detailed^ and 
are not without their inSuence here. Winkehnann was the 
parasite of the fragmraits that fell from the conversation or the 
tablets of Mengs. A deep scholar, and better fitted to com- 
ment a classic than to give lessons on art aitd s^k^ he rea- 
soned himself into frigid reveries, and Platonic dreams cm 
beau^. As &r as the taste or the instructions of his tatoec 
directed him, he is right whenever they are ; and between his 
own laming and the tuition of the other, his history of art 
delivers a spedoos system, and a prodi^oos number of usefiil 
observations. He has not, however, in his regulation of 
^)0ch8, discriminated styles and masters with the precision, 
' attention, and acumen, which, from the advantages of his 
situation and habits, might have been expected; and disap- 
points us as often by meagreness, neglect, and confusion, as 



be (^nds by laboured aod inflated rhapsodies on the most 
celebrated monuments of art. To him Germany owes the 
sbaddes of her artists, and the narrow limits of theii lum ; 
from him they have learnt to substitute the means fiir the endj 
and by a hc^less chase afier what they call beanty, to lose 
what al<me can make beanty inlerestiDg, expression and mind. 
Tlie works of Mengs himself are no doubt full of the most 
useiiil information, deep observation, and often consummate 
criticism. He has traced and distinguished the principles of 
the modems from those of the ancients; and in his compara* 
live view of the design, colour, composition, and expression 
of RaG&ello, Corregio, and Tiziano, with luminous per^icuity 
and deep precbion pointed out the prer<^tive or inferioiily 
of each. As an artist, he is an instance of what perseverance, 
study, experience, and encouragement can achieve to supply 
the pUce of genius. 

" Of English critics whose writings preceded the present 
century, whether we consider solidity of theory or practical 
usefulness, the last is undoubtedly the first. To compare 
Reynolds with his predecessors would equally disgrace oub 
judgment, and impeach our gratitude. His votiMnes can 
liever be consulted without profit, and should never be quitted 
by the stadent^s hand, but to embody by exercise the precqtts. 
he gives, and the means he points out." 

In 1802 Mr.Fuseli visited Paris, where be remuned about 
six weeks. He there conceived the inteDtion of writing some 
account of the treasures of art which at that time were ac- 
cumulated in the Louvre, and collected materials for the 
purpose ; but the renewal of the war prevented the booksellers 
from encouraging the producUoD of the work. 

In 1805, Mr. Fuseli's critical powers were again displayed 
in a new- and much enlarged edition of " Pilkington's INe- 
tionary of Painters^" 

One of Uie friends of Mr. Fuseli's earlier life was Lord 
Orfbrd, then Horace Walpole. Cipriani was a fiivourite 

!■.,- ...I., Google 


artist of Mr. Walpole's, and was mndi employed by him. 
The latter, however, wishing for a picture of Hero and 
Leander, Cipriani said that it was not a subject that wonM 
suit him, but that he knew a young artist who could execute 
it better than any man in England. He accordingly, in the 
kindest luid handsomest manner, introdaced Mr. Fuseli to 
Mr, Walpole, &r whom he painted several [rictures, which, 
we believe, are now at Houghton. Mr. Cootts, Mr. Angers- 
tdln, Mr. Lock» Mr. Roscoe, Mr. KnowLes, Mr. James Car- 
ridt Moore, and Vice Admiral Sir Graham Moore, were 
atncng Mr. Fuseli's most intJmBte- friends. Mr. Bohnanno, 
and Mr. Moses HaughtcHi (the excellent artist' in mioiatare, 
who, exchanging for a while the pendl for the graver, trans- 
ferred to copper some of Mr. Fusdi's finest : productions), 
maintained for many yea» a constant and kind intercourse 
with him. For thirty or for^ years Mr. Fuseli was in tha 
habit of dining once a week at the hospitable table of his .old 
friend Mr. Johnson, the bookseller. Here he met a number 
of distinguished literary characters. Among the frequent 
visitors at Mr. Johnson's, during that long period, were Mr. 
Booaycastte, X>r. Aikin, Mrs. Barbauld, Sir Humphrey Davy, 
Mr. Godwin, Mrs. Mary Wols^mecrofl *, Mr. Home Took^ 
Dr. Wahmt, Dr. Stock, the late Bishop of Killala, Dr. 
Priestley, the Rev. John Hewlitt, Dr. Henry, Mr.Holcrof^ 
Stc &C. Such were the attractions of Mr. Fuseli's convers- 
ation, which was lull of point, that it was considered quite a 
blank day at Mr. Johnson's when any accident prevented him 
from being of the party. He was remarkably happy in re- 
partee. He had also great powers of argument, but he was 
an enemy to protracted discussions, and especially if at any 
time be found that he had taken the wrong side, he gelierally 
contrived to turn the matiet c^ with a joke. His friends 
relate many of his felidtous remarks ; but owing to the pe- 
culiarity and vigour of his enundadon and gesture, they lose 
much in narrative ; and, when they have not the advantage 

* £T«i7one hai heard of tlwanmuited coneipoiidenca between IbU lady and 



even of imhadve t(»ie and settcBi, thdr qMiit ip tfiany casea 
alntost «idre]j evaporaUs. 

On one occaaon, iriien dining at Mr. J<dmsc»% a gemle* 
nun called oot to him from dw odter end erf* the room,'— ''Mr. 
Fn§^ I lately pmchaeed a jdctilre of yonrs." Mr. F. *' I^ 
yon ? what ifl the sol^ect ? " Gent '* I really don't know.** 
iSr. F. " llut's odd CTonf^ ; you mnst be a strange fel- 
low, to buy a pi<^re without knowing the sol^ect I" Gent. 
(a tittle nettled) " I don't know what the devil it is." Mr.F. 
" Perhaps it is Ike devit : I have o&ea punted him." Gent. 
" Perhaiw it is." Mr. F. " Wdl ' yon have iS^ now ; take 
care that he does not one d^ h&veyou!" 

Lounging in his Milton Gallery, a decendy-dressed stranger 
accosted him:— "These pictures^ Sir, are from Milton?" 
"TbeyttK." «WBiiton wrote 'Pftradfee Lost?" "Hedid." 
** I never read it; but IwilL" "Yon had better not; yonll 
find it an exceedingly tough ytW 

When Mr. Fusdi resided in Bemer's-street, twd of Ae 
Hoyii AcademidaiiB, men more remariiable ftt th^ abi^eff 
than fin- dieir attenttm to " the outward man,*? of whidi ibey 
were sadly ne^j^igent, called on him to talk over some businesa 
cnntected with the Academy, llie host and his visitors du-^ 
agreed on the siil^eot, and on ^tat d^arture, the dbcnssion 
whidi had oommcnoed above stairs ccmtinued as diey descend- 
ed, and vras prolonged as they all thtee stood on the stsep of 
the street^oor:. At lengdi, Mr*. Fuseli, advertii^ to bis 
fiiends' shabby halnliments, ptrt an «)d to the conversation by 
spying to them in a hmnouroos tone, " Come, go away I go 
away I I don't wish my nei^bom*s tolhink I have bom-baiUffi^ 
about me t" 

He had a great diri&e to common-place observatitms.- Af- 
ter sitting perfectly silent for a long tinUe in his own roran, 
during the " bald, disjcdnted chat" of some idle ca!Iers4n, who 
vrere gabbling with one another about the weather, and ether 
tf^cs of as interesting a nature, he snddenty exctmmed, — 
" We bad pork for dinner to^Iay." " Dear I Mr. Fuseli*- 



what an odd remark \" " Why, it is as good as an; thfaig 
you bare been saying for the last hour." 

Like most persons of studions habits, he was occasionally 
liable to fits of great irritability. A well-known' living en- 
graver, a man not only of extraordinary powers in his art, 
but in perfect possession of every jkculty of mind and body, 
with the exception of bis hearing, whidi is much hnpaired, 
tapped one- day at the door of Mr, Fuseli'a painting-rooin ; 
" Come in," was the answer, in a signed tone nf voice, 
which, of covne, was Dot audible. Aoodier t^ followed. 
" Come in," again said Mr. Fuseli, with a sligfat increase of 
emphasis, that still did not vibrate suffiraendy on his vlsitm-'s 
tympsnnra. A third t^> : " Come m !" roared Mr. f^iseli, 
with the longs of a Sbenttnv accompanying the alarming re- 
quest with an cgaci^ation, as hmdly vociferated : of which, 
however, it may be oongh to s^ that it was eKceedingly 
expsessive, althon^' perhaps not strit^ cJaarical. The 
astoniafasd Mr. L. cnfierEd the den, and received, the fiiU fj^tre 
of the- Uon's eye. It cbd scarcely be necessary to add, that 
as socm as Mr, Foseli disGovered who it was, he lan^led at 
his mis^prehension, and i^Io^zed for his rudeaesa. 

^^teaking one ^y. of a contemporary artii^ whose conn- 
tenaoce was not of the jnost prgBossessing charartgr, and who^ 
althongh he had a finn «nd vigOrons pencil^ did not eviilce 
Bmdi taste' in the selectioa <^ his snt^cts, Mr. IWeli said, 
** He paints "^hing but thieves and murderer^ and wbaibe 
wonts a model he looks in the glass." 

Mr.- Fuseli undnstood the Latin lai^;nage diOroi^^yr and 
wrote it with great el^ance aiai power. He was: likewise an 
eseellent Greek scholar. When ^lowper was prqtaiing'' bis 
tnaslatioD of die Biad fw the press, -Mr. Fusdi, having'seeii 
the ** Prospectus" of the work,- made stMneotnervatioifs upeni 
it wh3e sitting at Mr. Johnssn^i tftM<^ ■wluch, having been 
r^ierted to Mr. Cowper, struck kuuM ferdbty that he re^ 
quested the critic's assistance in the reriubn of his nsuiBser^iti 
and rec^ved it. In Hsyl^s " life of Cowpei" there is a 



letter frc»n Cowper to tbe Rer. Wm. Unwin, dated Msrch 
13, 1786> in which the fact is menlloned in the fbllowmg 

" I haTe put my book into the hands of the most extra- 
ordinary critic that I have ever , heard o£ He is a Swiss ; 
has an accurate knowledge of English ; and for his knowledge 
of Homer, has, I verily believe} no fellow. Johnson recom* 
mended him to me. I am to send him the quires as &st as I 
fini^ thsm off, and the first is now in his bands." 

In a letter to his bookseller, dated February II, I?90» 
Cowper says : — 

" I am very sensibly obliged by the remarks of Mr. Fuseli, 
and beg that you will tell him so ; they afford me opportu- 
nities of improvement which I shall not n^lect." 

And in another letter, dated S^t 7, 1790 : — 

" It grieves me that after all, I ^m obliged to go into public 
widiout the whole advantage of Mr. Fuseli's judicious stric- 
tures I beg yon to present my compliments 

to Mr. Fuseli, with many and sincere thanks for the services 
that his own more important occupatbns would allow him to 
render me." 

** It is a singular spectacle," Mr. Hayley remarks, " for those 
who love to contemplate the progress of social arts, to observe 
a foreigner, who has raised himself to high rank in the ar- 
duous profession of a painter, correcting, and thanked for 
correcting, the chief poet of England, in his Euglish version 
of Homer." 

On the publication of Cowper's wcvk, Mr. Fuseli wrote an 
admirable critique upon it, in tbe <* Analytical Review ;" * 
which publication, indeed, is enriched with a great, many con- 
tributions &om his pen, on subjects connected with natural 
history, the fine arts, and classical learning. It would be 
difficult to convey a more adequate notion pf the soundness 
of Mr. Fuseli's remarks, tiian by showing, in the follow^ 
jug passage of a letter from Cowper to Samuel Ros^ Esq. 
* For JanutTf, 1793. 


BESRY F0SfiLI, E^ S37 

ckted Feb. 17^ 1793, wltat the ao&or Hfuself — it nun wKo, 
however amiable, was, at least, as sensitive as authors' hi' ^ 
Aeral are -— thotigKt of ihfl M*i«<* : — 

" I have peai the crift^S of Ihy woti in the AiialytiCai 
R^ew, and am happy to have SBtti MO the haiMs of a 
cHdc, r^fouii enough indeed, but a' scholar and a ma^' 6f 
sense ; and who does not dfcliberately iiltbiid ibd mischief! I 
am better pleased indeed^ tftat Hfe nnsures som'e things, tfi^n 
I should have been with unmixed commendation ;' fb^ His 
eensufe (to use the new diplomatic term); wilf accredit his 
, ptoiae. In his- particular rcmarils he is for iHe most part 
r%ht, and I ^aH be die better for them ; but iti hW geheraf 
oi^os* I Ainfe he AsSerts too brgely, and more ffiari hri conldf 

Ck his intimate' knowledge of Greek, ]!t&. Fns^'irequetltl|y 
availed' himself tbt hii' amusement He would' compose 
Gteek vers^- extemporaneously, and then pretend' that he' 
codd not retcrflect tK^ author. ** Whose ar«j those, PtaS- 
son ? " repeating four or five sonorous' lines. '' I redly db 
not know,*" answered tiie learned professor,- aftei' a short' 
pause; no doubt surprised to find that any GVeet existed' in' 
the world with which he was unacquainted. " Hov^ tfie 
deuce should yon," -was the chuckling r^ly, " v/hea I wrot6 
them myself? " 

There were few modern languages also of which Sfr. Fu- _ 
sdi did not know sometfmig; for He had great fecility ill 
acquiring languagfej and uSerfto say; dfefthe application of 
six weeks was enough to enable a man tb' grasp the elemente 
of any langu^ie. German was his native tongtie. We havei 
already shown i^bat a nlasterhe was of English; He wrote! 
Frenth wHh great ease, aind Italiah in its purest dfal^t; 
and could read Dutch withoQt diflScul^. -^ His tAemoiy was 
singularly retentive; he was never at- a loss in quoting a 
dassic aurtioT; and codid ^waystell the part of the- work In 
whioh the quotatJtm might be' found-. Shaliea^^eiire!,' M3tbti, 
and Dhnte Weir^ bis fim»ui^te^. Widi the &M ts^tMlf, 

VOL. X. S' 



perbs|is ever lived w^ v«re so .thpipughly ood- 

i/if' Fusdi wrote the " AdvertiseipaU," as it js sidled, but 
wbi«li is in &ct the preGv^ to Dr. Hunter's translatJon of 
" Lava^s Pttysic^jt^omy." Jt is a very able and a very 
charactcjiBttc compositaon. Wf sul:goiii th^ concluding pa- 
iagTa{^ not only to show the kindly feeling of Mr. Fusell 
towards his earliest friend, but 6x the .s^ke pf the allusion to 
himself which they contain. 

« It might, perhaps, be expected, that SQ^le infonnadtHi 
should be ^ven relative to the author of this wqrk; a task in 
our power^ and sufficteoidy pleasing, if we consider the cha- 
lacter of the num. But the naiTiM^ye of a writer's liie, how- 
ever celebrated) cannot fiimbh details sufiKrientty important 
or varied to entertain or instruct the public — unless it be a 
confession, a task only to be performed by himsel£ Besides, 
the ^itet still lives, and what might be allowable or amusing, 
if related of him who b no more amopgst ns, would border 
on iad^i'^^Acyi whether it were praise or blame, if exhibited 
during )as life. I^ it suffice to say, that Mr. Lnvater is in 
nude the second minister of the churches of Zurich, and that 
it can accoupted for irom the painfid sentiment which 
his superiority must have excited in his fellow-citisens, that he 
is not the first. Every period of his life has been marked 
with luDainous zeal in his clerical capaci^, with intrepidity in 
lus pubU^ and with primitive innocoice in his private con- 
duct. Wa works on a great variety of topics, though all 
directed to one endt that of promoting order, instructing 
ignorance, exciting virtue, difiusiog humanity, and r^^IaUng 
taste, are sufBciently numerous to furnish a small library. 
He was born a poet, an orator, a philosopher, a critic; but 
a fetality, the very, revtn^e of that which he laments in the 
character of some one in this work * — an unbridled will of 
composing at all times — has, perhaps, stained his produo* 
tions with greater inequality, than he would wish to have 
imputed to him who is desuv^ <^ unmixed praise. Still the 
• Ur. tvt^UaaeV. 

' L>cizsci!/Goog[c 


greater part of his writings, as they are, will bid defiBDce to 
the ton-ffiit that in all ages sweeps to'oblivion the produce of 
mediocrity ; and it may safely be pronounced, without pro- 
phetio sagaci^, that the work here presented to the public, 
notwithstanding its celebri^, has not yet reached the summit 
of feme which it must command hereafter." 

When Lavater published his " Aphorisms <m Man," it 
was with a view that they should be translated into English 
by his friend Fuseli ; which they accordingly were. With 
this intuition he dedicated them to Mr. Fuseli, in the follow- 
ing terms i — 

" Take, dear observer of men, from the hand of your un- 
biassed friend, this testimony of esteem for your genius. All 
the world know that this is no flattery ; for in an hundred 
things, I am not of your opinion ; but, in what concerns the 
knowle^e of mankind, we are nearer to one another than 
any two in ten thousand. What I ffve here is the result d 
long experience, matured and confirmed by various and daily 
^opIicaUon. It mil be found, I hope, an useful book for 
evo^ class of men, from the throne to the cottage. All is, 
cannot be, new ; but tdl ought to be true, us^l, important ; 
and much I trust is new and individual. I give you liber^ 
not only to make improvements, but to omit what you think 
&lse or unimportant." 

A warm and smcere Inendship subsisted between Mr. 
Fuseli and Sir Thomas Lawrence; commencing at a very 
early period in the life of the latter, and continuing, not only 
with undiminished, but with incresfflng ardour, until the close 
of the life of the former. So greet, indeed, was the conge- 
niality of mind and feeing between those two distingubfaed 
artists, that it is said, that when the Milttm Gallery was pro> 
jected, it was intended that the execution of it should be their 
joint work. Although the splendid result would render it 
extremely ungracious, to r^ret that that Gallery was even- 
tually the entire production of Mr. Fuseli's powerfiil pencil ; 
yet, whoever has seen the magnificent picture by Sir Thomas, 
of " Satan calling up his L^ons," which was so long the 
8 2 


Mt«w*i*eofiWiiM4lt<rfNi»folkliQii6ei.ffil*stM» tbftthadlHB 
' [K>w«cs been dewiied to the iUustratuHk «f our great ^ip poet* 
-Ed^lspd would bsiw Mguiredsoow of die proudest pnx^ of 
jaatiira gttaiiiB. We are iadebted to a fiiend who koows the 
heU Sot Nilwieodote vhii^ shbws the generous and delicate 
feeling of both dieae bigUljN-^f^ mok Mr. FoBeli, bap^ 
r^eni^ toeapnai his high adrtiiratiDn of two cvifpoal and 
Tery TnUmble dmwings, by B^hael, in Sir Thomifl Law- 
<reDoe's otJJectito, the Isttv sent; tlieai to him the next day* 
with * Ernest that he voold accept th^n^ as a small tesdr 
mony of regard and respect. Mr. Fusell, divided between 
Us driight Jd this instance of Sir Thonas'& kindnesG, and his 
altwilUngness to d^urire his.fbeod of two ludi chvies wcriis^ 
dedamd that he would eoaseat oiily to hold diefn. ia trust; 
'Wyl thftii St his death, theyrshonld rerert to. obe liberal .dome 
ABer-a few years, honrev^', when be &nnd that Sir Thomasls 
'caUoet of drawiogs l^ Michael Angeit^ JKa^had^ Ctxie^a, 
4nd,aU the great masters,, had attained to an extent &r beycnd 
lbiit:of ai^ private or even royal coUec^oo in £ui<q>^ he in<- 
siistcd upon irestemg the twa drawing, in question, pemEvking 
(hat it WW a pity; to s^arate them from the sodety df their 
«empeer4. It may h^re be ineritbned. that, after Mr. J'useli's 
deMh,: Sir ^[^mas Lawrence became the purchaser, at a 
handsome price, of the extensive collection of historian and 
p04li<Md drawings by Mr. Fuseli'^s hand ; and it majr, with 
JHitatiiqft be added* that Mr; Fusdi's drawings are asaong the 
meflt wlinvaUe of hj9' fHro^odibns. 

iSo itnpreflMd were the students of the Boytd Academy 
with' tlie kindnos with whidi Mr..FuselL cohductedl himself 
towards them'io.' his <^ftce of ke^>^ ocffi- of the principal 
diuttes of ^Lch; EotuaUoQ 'is, to superintend what is called 
" The Antique Academy," U»t some! years ago they pre- 
sented bini with' a handdoine siJrer vase, execiited by Messrsi 
B-uodell and Bfcidge,. from a desigo by Mr. Flaxmati ; a tri- 
laite of gratefttl- re^pieot which afinfted- Inm senaiUy, 
, In iai7i hfi was honowed widi thed^dama of the fiist 
«lta»ofitheaGadeiDy i^St Luke,'at Rome; 


HENRV ^USELl, ESQ.- 261 

Some of hn prineipBl prodoCtioDs are hi the SJlIowing^ 
hands : — "Thel-azat-House," and "The Bfidgmg of Chaos,'* 
have hiiin bought shice his d^th b; the Countess of Giliid>- 
ford. The Duke of Siickingham has two of his finest pic-- 
tares from '^ The Midsummer Night's Dream." ** Noah' 
Kessing his Family," Mr. FuseH presented to the dhurch at' 
Luton, in BedfordAire, Mr. Roacoe has his '* Lycidas;"' 
" Robin Goodfellow," and several others. " Sin and Death," 
and ^ The Night- Hag," are in the possession of John 
Knowtes, -Esq. I^e late Mr. Angerstein had IJiree of his 
pkitures: " Satan starting from Ithuriel's spear j" *' The 
Deluge j" and ** The Meeting of Adam and Eve." 

Mr. Fuseli continued to paint to the last Week of his life. 
The pieture which w&s on his easil at the' time of his death, 
and which is in a state diat may fiurly be catled Snished, was 
" Constance," ^m King John. He was painting it for 
Junes Carrick Moore, Esq. He left, however, above sixty 
pictures, most of them finished (the greater pert, indeed,' 
having been exhibited,) and the' rest in different stages of 
advanoement r ibr it Was freqaen% his practice, when he had 
completed jiis cMnposWon, and imparted to it some expres- 
sion and ft little effect, to set it aside, and take Up someUiing 
else. Perhaps, it niay not be uninteresting to mention, tliat 
be painted With jiis left hand. • 

During his long 1^ Mr. PaaeM generally enjoyed excel- 
lent health. His only complaint was ait occwional tendency 
to water in the chest, which he always removed by 1^ use 
of digitalis. *' I have been a very happy man," he Was 
Accustomed to say, " for I have beoi always wdi, and 
always employed in doing what I liked." 

At the time of his death he was on a visit to the Countess 
of Guildford, at Putney Hill. On the Sunday preceding 
the fetal event, lie was engaged to dbe with his early, ad- 
mired, and admiring IHend Mr. Eogers, flie poet, to meet 
Sir Thomas I^wrence, and his attached (Kend and fealf-; 
pnpn Mr. W. Young Oltley; but, having taken a short 
walk in the garden at Putney Hill, and feeHng biniKH' 
8 3 


968 HiWRY FUSELI, £80. 

a little indisposed} Lady Ouildfinxi persuaded him to send 
an apology, which he rather reluctantly did.-^It is impos- 
sible to pay too high a tribute to Lady Guildford, and her 
amiable and accomplished daughters Lady Susan and Lady 
Georgina North, for the aniftmn kindness with which they 
treated Mr. Fusdi, and for the solicitude which they evinced 
on his account when he appeared to be in danger. His ill- 
ness, if it might be go called, for he had no particular 
disorder, lasted <Hily five days. He was attended by i^ 
Alexander Crichton and Dr. Holland; but nature was evi- 
dently giving way, and all medical skill proved unavailing. 
To the last he retained the perfect possession of his Realties, 
and his mind was as vigorous and alert as at any former 
period of his life. On Mr. Knowles, who bad been his daily 
visitor &Dm the commencement of his indisposition, calling 
to see him the evening previous to his decease, Mr, Fuseli 
said to him, " My friend, I am going to that bourne whence 
no traveller returns." 

' It being the period of the yeot at which the annua! exhi- 
bition of the Royal Academy is always in active prquiralion, 
Sir Thomas Lawrence was at the time peculiarly et^aged 
at Somerset House; but he nevertheless contrived to pay 
those kind attenUonS to his dying friend, the value of which 
at such a moment it is impossible adequately to appreciate. 
Notwithstanding his occupations, and the distance fivm 
town. Sir Tliomas went to Putney Hill at least once every 
day during Mr. Fuseti's illness. Early on the momtog of 
Saturday the 16th of April, 1825, Mr. Fuseli anxiously 
and repeatedly asked if Sir Thomas Lawrence was yet cinne ; 
thus exemplifying the exquisite litws of Gray: 

" On some fond breast the parting soul relies ; 
Some pious drops the closing eye requires." 

Siortly after he expired, vrithout suffering the least 

On the 1 7th of April Mr. Fuseli's remuns were brought 
to town by Mr. Knowles, one of his executors, and received 


HENRY FUSELI, Esa.' 263 

at the 'Rayai Academy by Mr. Balmanno, his other execu' 
tot. On die 2ith they were deposited in 'a private vault in 
the Cathedral of St. Paul, close to that of his great friend 
and admirer, Sir Joshua Reynolds. The procession pro- 
ceeded from Somerset House about eleven o'clock and 
arrived at the Cathedral a little before twelve. Hie hearse, 
drawn by six horses, was followed by eight mouming-cDaches, 
each drawn by four, the first contabing die two executors^ 
John Knowles and Robert Bahnanno^ Esqrs. ; the others Sir 
Tho. Lawrence, Pres. R.A.; Henry Howard, Esq. Sec. R.A.; 
Rob. Smirke, jun. Esq. Treasurer, R. A. ; Sir Wm. Beechey, 
R; A. ; Hia PhilGps, Esq. R. A. ; Alf. E. Cbdon, Esq. R. A.; 
Wm.Malready, Esq. R.A.; G.Jones, Esq. R.A.; R. R. 
Reina^ Esq. R. A. ; Jefl". Wyatvflle, Esq. R. A. r Rev. Dr. 
C. Symmons ; S. Cartwrigbt, "Esq. ; Lord James Stuart, M. P.; 
Vice Adm. Sir Gratmm Moore, K. C. B. ; Hon. Col. Howard^ 
M. P. ; Sir E. Antrobus, Bt ; W. Lack, Esq. ; &miiel Ro- 
gers, Esq. ; Henry Rogers, Esq. ; Wm. Young Ottley, Esq. ; 
Wro. Roscoe, Esq. ; Rob. Roscoe, Esq. ; B. R. Haydon, 
Esq. ; Henry Roscoe, Esq. j T. G. WainewrigBt, Esq. ; and 
M. Hai^htdn, E^q. The processicm was closed by the 
carriages (mostly dftiwn by four horses, with servants in 
state liveries) of the Marquess of Bute, the Countess of 
Guildford, Lord Rivers, Lord Js. Stusr^ Hon. Col. Howard, 
Vice Adm. Sir Graham Moore, Samuel Risers, Esq., Mrs. 
Coutts, Sir Edm. Antrobus, Sir T. Lawrence, Dr. Sym- 
mons, Mr. Lock, Mr. Cartwrigfat, Mr. I^nirke, Mr. Wyat- 
ville, Bcc. &C. 

In the year 1788, M>. FuseH married Miss SopfaiaRaw- 
lins, who survives hint, and to whom he has bequeathed the 
whole of his property. 

On the day after the funeral, a character of Mr. Fnsell 
as an artist appeared in a Morning Paper,* which, we 
understand, was written by a yomig artist of great promise ; 
and which seems to us to be so jqst and impartial, that we 
must be permitted to quote it. 

* The Homing HenhL 
8 4 


^6ib H^lJjBY PUSPJ,!, ESQ. 

" It IjMwith truth been remarkts^ ifctt the wprks of! niea 
Qf genius ^Ipos, wjiew gre^t feults are vwitied /with grwf 
h^if.tie^ afford prc^ patter for oiitlRiBiaj that geaius, 
whichjis alw,i^$ C9»)Wtnc, iKdd, aitd daiing, at t^e time tiiat 
it .conuqaia^s att,ejitipn, is sure tp provpke criticisin ; that jt 
i$ ^f r^lai*) fold, .apd tivid coqiposer who escapes cen- 
suxfit »lid des^ry^s qo f^aise. No tpaa jioesessed more 
dp^d^djjr th^ chaii^ct^istics of geniu;, and genius too of the 
yer^ h^hest prder, ib^n Mr. Fuseli. No man astonished 
mpre by the oceasional subUwitj' of his inventions^ although 
he oftep fell iptD that infirmity of -» great mind, — ej^rava-, 
gapcet . Tbat his ^rors aff^se from the same energy of 
character ^lufh produced his go^atest beauties, is proved 
b^ ^is p^it ketpieat and impassion^ .declaration, &at be 
vopld sponer be the author c^ the fpcced ^nd capricious 
styl^ of iGpjkfius and Sfa'anger, than of the meagre and 
insipid jtQSte of Albert Durer. 

" ThliS occasional e^travag^ce has tenfled to depreciate 
h|s style in the estimation of the &glish publicj for the 
vulgar wjU see i&is, when they are incapable of distingpishing 
bpwitifip; but it must be ackaoi^ledged that som^ of his 
i;iTentipp3 are wholly free frpm this defect. Perhaps no 
CQmppsitia^ ever liad sP po^verful an effect on the mind of « 
spfiCtator as his ' X^ctzar-House.' No work of Michael Angelo, 
hin(^§elf di^lays so gr^at ^ diversity of character and pasT 
sion- The ori^nal idea of this melancholy and terrific 
scene is known to h^ve been taken from nature^ which coqt, 
tradicts the vulgar prejudice that he never referred to that 
- Epurfif • No tnan has been worthy of emboc^ing the con- 
ception^ of Milton ^ut him. In the cotit^t of Satan and 
Death, and iiiany others of the purest epic nature, our 
a^t^)l<«(tion and ^pl^e are divided between the poet and 
the pwiM3". His 'Xypidas' and * The Dream of Eve,' 
are pregoant with pathos* and the most ejcquisite poetic, 

" Although many of his pictures possessed that mysterknis, 
and ominous "tone of colour that accords so well with his 


HENfiY WVSELh BfiQ^ 265 

subjects, yet it must be acknowledged upon the -whfAe that 
he was pot eminent as a colourisU Although in many of bis 
WKO'ks there are defects in drawing, yet for power in ^rawin^ 
for s^le, for heroic and epic form, he commands the highest 
admiration as a draughtsman. 

" As a man of general taste be was truly liberal. Wbat- 
ever beauties he did not possess himself, he was not the less 
capable of appreciating and enjoyingj when he found them in 
the works of others. The charms of coloor seemed always 
to ^ve him the gre^itest pleasure ; and he even took delight 
in those lesser graces of art to which he himself never de- 
scended. Although his existence was valuaUe to all, yet by 
none will his loss b^ so severely felt as by the younger artists. 
Ko man was more acute in discerning the germ of genius, 
and no man more ready and more capable to foster and ma- 
ture, when he found it." 

Mr* Fuseli has left many manuscripts ; some complete, 
others imperfect. Of the first description, the principal are 
eight Lectures on Painting, and a volume containing nearly 
three hundred Aphorisms on Art, which are said to manifest 
extraordinary power and acumen. About twenty years ago 
he engaged to write, and commenced a History of Modern 
Art, Unfortunately this history, although it consists of be- 
tween five and six hundred manuscript pages, is in an un- 
finished state ; the narrative being brought down only to the 
death of Michael Angelo. There is also a German poem on 
art, which Mr. Fuseli himself considered the best thing he 
ever wrote; and there are innumerable fi-agments, compre- 
hending observations on art, and on artists. All these re- 
mains have been sent to Mr. Roscoe for his revision. 

Besides two or three drawings, there are at least five por- 
traits of Mr. Fuseli in existence. A portrait in profile, 
paint«d by Mr. Northcote, at Romej in the possession of 
James Moore, Esq.; a portrait painted many years ago by 
Mr. Opie; a most characteristic cabinet picture on ivory, by 
Mr. Haughton ; an admirable cabinet picture, by Mr. Har-^ 
lowe; and a recently painted half-length, by Sir Thomiis 



Lawrence of which it is enou^ to say, that it is one of Sif 
Thomas's finest imd most successfiil prodacrtiotls. There is 
also a masterly bust of him in marble, by E. H. Baily, 
Esq. R.A. 

We sabjoin alistoftheworksof art that wete exhibited at 
the Royal Academy by Mr. Fuzeli, commencing trith the ^th 
exhibition (^ that body in 1774, to the period of his death, 
1825, being upwacds of hsilf a centary. Hie first two articles 
were exhibited while he was studying at Rome. 
1774- T%e death of Cardinal Beat^H. A Drawing. 
1777. A scene in Macbeth. 

1 780. Ezzelin Bracciaferro, tnasing over Meduna, slain ty hint 
Jbr disloyalhf, during his absence in the Holy Ijand, 

Satati starting from the touch qf£huri^s lance. 

Jason appearing before Pelias, to ■whom the sigU of a matt 
with a single sandal had been predictedfalat. 
1781i Dido. " nia graves oculus," &c. &c. -^neld 14. 

Queen Catherines T^ision. Vide Shakspeare's Hen.VTII- 
(act. 5.) 

A Conversation. 

1782, The Night-mare. 

1783. 7^ Weird Sistei'S. 

Percival delivering Balisane from the enchantment of 

Urma. Vide Tale of Thyot. 
La^ Constance, Arthur, arid Salisbury. Vide King 


1784. Lady Macbeth malking in her Sleep. 

(Edipus with his Daughters receiving the summons of 
his death. Sophocles. 

1785, TTie Mandrake ; aCharm. ^i(2e Ben Johnson's Witches; 
Prospero. Vide Tempest. 

liB^. Francesco and Paolo. Dante's tnferno, 

the Shepherds Dream. Vide Paradise Lost, fi. l.y 

line 7S1, 
t^ipus devoting his Son, Vide CEdipus Coloneus of 




1788. Theseus receiung the due fiom Jriadne. A finished 


1789. Beatrice. Vide Much Ado about Nothing. 

17t)0. Wolfram introducing Bertram of Navarre to the jiiace 
tchere he had confined his Wife with the Skeleton of 
her Laoer. Vide Contes de hi R«ne de Navarre. 

1792. Faktt^in the Buck-basket. Vide Merry "Wives of 

Chria disappearing at Emaus. 

1793. Macbeth-! the Cauldron sinking, the Witches vanishing. 

Sketch for a large picture. 
Artorei delivered Jrom the enchantment ^ Busirane ^ 
Britomart. Vide Spenser. 

1798. Sichard III. in his Tent, the night preceding the Battle 
ofBoswotih, approached and addressed hf the Ghosts 
<)f severalt whom, at different periods t^his Protector^ 
ship and Usurpation, he had destrtn/ed. 

1199. The Cave of Spleen. Vide Rape of die Lock. 

1800. The Bard. Vide Gray. 

The Descent qf Odin. Ditto. 
The Fatal Sisters. Ditto. 

1801. Celadon and Amelia, Vide Tliomson's Seasons. 
180S. Thetis and Aurora, theMothers ofAchiUesand Memnon 

the Ethicpian, presented themselves before the throne 
of Jupiter, each to beg the the life of her ton, iDho 
•aiere proceeding to single combat. Jupiter decided in 
faooar ofAchiBes, and Memtum/elli Vide .^chylus. 

1804. The Sosicrusian Cavern. Vide Spectator. 

1805. the Corinthian Maid. 

1806. Count Ugolino, Chi^ of the Guelphs of Pisa, locked up 

by the opposite par^ with his Jour sons, and starved 
to death in the Tower, which from that event acquired 
the name of Torre della Fame. Vide Inferno. 
Milton dictating to his Iknighter, 

1807. Criemhild the widow ofSivril, shewsto Trom/, inprisonj 

the heitd ofGunther, his accomplice in the assassination 
of her husband. 



1806. Cardinal Beaujbrt tertifei hy tjte sitpposed A^at4lidii 

ofGloucesier. Vide Hen. VI. Pt 2nd. act iii. sc. 8. 
1809. Itomea amtemptating Jidiet in the Momanent. f^ide 

The eneottnter t^Rameo and Paris, in the Msnument f^ 
the Capidets. Ditto. 

1810. Herades, to driver- Theseas, aesaSt and tcotatds Fiula 

on his throne. Vide Iliad B.5. ¥.485. 

1811. Macbeth comuUing the Vision 4^ the Jrnied Head. Vide 

Sarpedon slain in Battle, carried home iy Sleep and 

Death. Iliad B. 17. v. 682. 
Richard Til. starting Jrom the Ajfparition (^Umse "whom 

he had assassinated. ^iiJe ^akspeare. ' 

Dion seeing a Female Spectre overturn his Mtars and 

gaieep his Hall. Vide Plutarch's Ufe of Dion. 

1812. La^ Macheth seizes the daggers. A sketch for a large 

The Witch and the Mandrake. Vide Ben Johnson. - 
Eros reviving Psyche. Apuleius. 
Ulysses addressing the Shade ofAjax in Tortarvs. 
1814. Sigelind^ Sifrid's mother, roused iy the Contest ^tAg 

Good and Evil Genius about her Infant Son. Vide 

Liet der Nibelunge, XI. 
Queen Mab — 
" She gallops night by night through lover's brains," Set. 

Vide Romeo and Juliet. 
Criemkild mourning ov^ Si/rid. Vide Liet der Nibe- 

lungen, XVII. 
1817- Perseus starting from the Cave of the Gorgons. HesiodV 

Shield of Hercules. 
Theodore in the Haunted Wood, deterred Jrom rescuing 

a Female chased by an Infernal Knight. Vide Boc-i 

caccio's Decameron. 
Criemhild throwing herself oji the 'Bocbf ofSivrit^ assat^ 

sidaled by Trony. Das Nibelungen lied. 
Sivril, secretly married to Criemhild, surprisedhf Tromf, 


on hi»_first iaterwai with ha\-afiet ihe vicfoiy ever 
tie Samms. Das Nisbelcmgeii Ued. 
lS18...DantJs in Sis descent to H^, disoaoers amdst tke^^ht 
of hapless loaerSi vMrkd about in- a hurricane. Hie 
fiinaa ^ Paelo aad Frattscesca i^ Bimni. Vide\a- 
femo, Cant. 5. 
A Scene of the Deluge. 

1820. An Incantation, See the Pharmaceutria of Theocrites, 
Criemhild, the widow of Siegfried the Swift, exposes 

his body, assisted In/ Sigmond his father. King ofBeU 
giwn, in the minster at Worms, and sweari^ to his 

- assassination, challenges Hagen Lord if Trony, and 
Gunther King of Burgundy, his brother, to approach 
the corpse, and on the wounds beginning to flow, 
charges them with the Murder. Lied der Nibelunge. 
Aveiiture XVII.— 4085, &c 

Ariadne, Theseus, and the Minotaur, in the Lah/rinth. 
Vide Virg. Mn. 6. 

1821. Amphiaraus, a chief of the Argo/ic League against 

Thebes, endowed ivith prescience, to avoid his fate 
"withdrew to a secret place known only to Eriphyle his 
wife, which she, seduced by the presents ofPolynices, 
disclosed: thus betrayed, he on departing commanded 
AlcmcEon his son, on being itformed of his death, to 
destrcy his mother. Eriphyle feU by the hand if her 
son, who fled, pursued by the Furies. 

Jealousy. A Sketch. 

Prometheus delivered by Hercules. A Drawing. 

1823. The Dawn. 

" Under the opening eye-lids of the morn : 
What time the gray-fly winds his sultry horn." 

Vide Milton's Lycidas. 

1824. Amoret delivered by Britomartfrom the spell of Bmy- 

rane. Vide Fairy Queen. 

1825. Comus. Vide Milton. > „ ., .^ „ 

> Posthumous pictures. 
PsycJie. S '^ 

Total 69. 



For by much the lai^er and more interesting pordon of the 
facts contained in this memoir, we have been indebted to the 
kind communications of several of Mr. Foseli's intimate friends. 
We have also availed ourselves of the bit^raphical notices in 
Pilkington, the Monthly Adror, and the Europeaq, Gentle- 
man's, and Imperial Magazines, 



No, X. 


Xms eminent person long held a most distinguished rank in 
the literary and scientific world. He was the son of the Rev. 
Lewis Rees, a dissenting minister, who contributed, during 
an almost unexampled length of active life, to promote the 
cause of nonconformil^ in Korth and South Wales. When 
Mr, I,ewis Rees first setded in the northern part of the prin- 
dpali^, the country was, with r^ard to religion, in a state 
of extreme barbarism, for which it is by no means difficult 
to account. For many years after Wales was incorpor^ed 
with England, great piuns were taken to eradicate the Welch 
language, and, by a particular statute in the reign of Henry 
the Eighth, it was enacted that " no man that used that 
language could enjoy any office or fees under the Crown." 
Though the stigma thus fixed upon the tongue of this hardy 
race of ancient Britons produced no material change among 
the generality of the Welch, yet it did not fail to excite, in a 
considerable degree, the ambition of those who were best 
capable of instructing in the sound principles of moralil^ and 
relif^on the great mass of the people. Looking to the favour 
and preferment which generally attach to those who readily 
acquiesce in the measures of a court, many of their ecclesias- 
tical guides either ceased to labour in the vineyard of their 
heavenly master, or delivered their instructions in an un- 
known language. It is true, that afler the reformation, both 
under the aupicious rdgn of Elizabeth, and during the profli- 
gate one of Charles the Second, the Welch language was 
commanded to be used in the churches in Wales, where that 
language was commonly understood; but, as if to counter- 
balance the good effect which those ordinances were calcu- 
lated to produce, it was long the custom to induct to the 


best ecclesiastical prefennents persons who were absolutely 
ignorant of Welcb. Under such circumstances the care 
of the Welch churches naturally devolved upon men who 
were, in the strictest sense of the phrase, the " hulling 
shepherds" alluded to in the gospel; and who, for the sake 
of a modemte subsistence, were content to serve two, three, 
or even four congregations, at the distance of several miles 
^m ea^h other. The duties of the holy office were ueces- 
sEuily hurried over in a slqvenly mannei' ; the people derived 
litlJe advantage from public instruction; and the more inr- 
portuit bene^ts which ought t» have accrued to the rising 
generation from private teaching, and the example of the 
teadier, were wholly unknown to them. "Eo these defects in 
the administration of the national rehgion mi^y be ast^bed 
that ignorance which generally prevailed in North Wales in 
the eax\y part of the last century; and to the same cause 
)nay be attributed the n^id progress of Methodism in 
that country, and the prevalence of various absurd and 
fanatical sects,' more especially of that which is pecaUac t» 
Walesj and which is known by the whimsical i^peUatitm of 
" Jumpers." Mr. I*wis Rees, during the whole of his 
ministry, discouraged in his followers every species of «ithu- 
^am, but. hiss zeal in the asserticui of the doctrines of Chris- 
tia^ty was eminently distinguished. In the laborious di&. 
charge of all the duties perttuning to a. Christian n^inister he 
was singularly assiduous' and indefatigable. The insidts 
which he frequently eKperienced in the performance of his 
§acred functions excited his pity uid sorrow, but had no 
effect in abating- his ardour. To ovoid the assaults' and in- 
dignities of the bigot and &naUc, who even thr^tened his 
]if{^ he travelled from place to place in tl^e darkness of nigbti 
Qn Sundays, and during the hours of leisure on other dhys, 
he preached to crowded coiqa;i;egations ; and he neglected no 
fit opportunity which' presented itself of instructing in virtue 
and the Christian religion the children and youager branches 
of those bmilies who attended upon his ministry.' Such was 
hift sttcoesES- that bebecamamo^t popular in the very plaoe^ 

V iconic 

DR. ABakUAM EEES. 373* 

ia wbidi he had begun his labours at so miidi personal 
hazard. In the course of a few years the minds of a great 
mass of the people became enlightened, and their dispositions 
ameliorated to a degree scarcely ccHiceivable j and the name 
of Lewis Bees Is to this day held in veneration by the de- 
scendants of those who were originally his bitterest enemies, 
and persecutors. After having q>ent the most vigorous and' 
active part <tf his life in this scene of labour and dai^r, and 
having laid the finwdatton of many dissenting congregations 
in Norcb Wales* he removed to Glamorganshire where he 
passed bis reDuiniog ysars^ an eminently popular and usefiil 
iweadier ; and died at the advanced age of ninety. 

By bis mother's side, Dr. Abraham Rees was collatwally: 
descended from the cel^rated Perry, who died a martyr to 
■onconfonuity in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. 

Ih*. Rees was bran at or near Montgomery, in the year. , 
174S. Having, with a view to the ministry, to which his 
fiither devoted him &om his birth, received the elements of 
aducatbn under I>r. Jenkins, who superintended a respectable 
seminary for Protestant dissenters at Carmarthen, he was 
temoved to London, and became a pupil in the academy for 
dissenting ministers, founded by Mr. Coward at Hoxton, and. 
which was then conducted by Dr. David Jennings, the learned 
.author of a work on Jewish antiquities, and Mr. (afterwards 
Dr.) SamueJ Morton Savage. Here he made such proficiency^ 
especially in the mathematics and in natural philosophy, to< 
which studies, on the recommendation and with the assistouca 
<tf his friend Dr. Price, he devoted as much of his time as his. 
other eng^ements and his views as a candidate for the mi- 
nistry wraild allow, that in 1762, on the death of Dr. Jennings 
•nd when a new arrangement took place in the academy. Dr. 
Kippis being appointed classical tutor, Dr. Rees, although 
only nineteen years of age, and althc^ugh his regular term of 
study was not con^pleted, was appointed by the trustees of the 
institatiDn, to the mathematical department of tuition. In this 
arduous situation be gave so much satis&ction, that he was 
soon after diosen to the more responsible ot§ce of xesident 

VOL. X. T 


97^ D^* ABAAHAH SEE9. 

tbter, whidi he condnued to bold Sot tw»ity~three yfears, to 
die credit of the academy, stui the great advant^e of die 
dissenting cause. Duri^ the time that Dr. Rees relamed 
ijiese appointments, he had nndn' his tuition many g«aitletaien 
wlto afterwards became eminent as preachers in thor fe^tct- 
ive denominatitms, and not a few survive who are well known 
to the rebgious and the bterary world. 

F-or some time Dr. Rees officiated only as an occa^nal 
preacher. At length, in Jaly, 1768, he was unanimoiifily 
dected pastor of the Presbyterian congr^ation, St. Thomas'%. 
Sdothwark, (since removed to Stamfbrd-^txee^ Blsckfiiars 
Road), a connexion of which he was always aocostomed to 
^>eak with pleasure. His predecessor was Mr. Iteirj Heid, 
wbo» with his brother, Mr. James Read, strennou^y. oj^nsed,, 
in 1719, the imposition of ardctes and confesnons of &idL 
upon dissenting ministers, for which ibey sofiered not a liftle 
oEdoquy bKHn some c^ their more con^lying bretbim. .Mf^ 
lienry Read hod presided over tbe congregation in Sit. Tbo- 
■BBS's above bidf a century, and with such popularity, thM 
for many years he was (4)liged to take his station in. dm 
pulpit nearly an hour before the commencement <>f the sernce, 
on account of the crowds of auditors who fiteraliy blocked a^ 
die usles of the meeting. Dr. Rees remained in this ntuUibn 
fifteen years, and the congr^ation flour^ed undei* his ini- 
nistry. At the end of that term, on tbe deadi ttf Mir. N»< 
tliaiuel Whit^ he was invited to become miiiistra^ of the 
£ongr^ati(Hi of Jewin Street, then assemUiog in t^e Old 
Jewry, in a place consecrated by the labours of a successdon 
of eminently pious mm, nearly the last of whom was the 
highly-gifted and learned Dr. Chandler. Frtan various cattsee^ 
the congr^ation had much declined, lUld it was jutted (wisefy 
as appeared by the event), that Dr. Rees «?on]d revive .tlA 
interest; and with thb hope, and without any escalation of 
an increase of emolnntedt, with the cimsent of his friends at 
St. Tliomas's, he accepted die inviGation, and Irom 178S^ to 
the period of his death, continued to labbUr with unqtvestibn- 
able and hicreasing succe^. 



But we must now revert to hb academic occupations. In 
the year 1 7S4>, Dr. Savage and Dr. Kippls resigned their 
connexion with the seminuy at Hoxton ; and Dr. Rees soon 
aRer followed their example. The cause of this separation 
has never been properly explained; but tliere is reason to 
believe that it was occasioned, in a great measure, by some 
dissatisfaction expressed on the part of the trustees, at the 
wide dqiarture of this academical institution from the doc- 
trinal principles whicli it was established to support. The 
old seminary at Hoxton, theref<H%, being now broken up, 
and that at Warrington, as well as the one at Daventry, fall- 
ing into rapid decay, it was resolved by a meeting of the 
more liberal and wealthy dissenters in London, to form 
another near the metropolis, on a more extended scale than 
had as yet iq>peared in England, for the education of young 
men in the free principles of nonconformity, unshackled by 
creeds, articles, aud confessions of faith. Accordingly, a largq 
subscription, headed by Mr. Newton, a gentleman of fortune 
was entered into, and in a short time a fiind was provided, 
sa£Gcient for the purchase and fitting up of some extensive 
premises at Hackney. The building went on with al^crity^ 
and at the opening of it in 178.6, Dr. Kippis, the principal 
director and tutor, preached a sermon, which was published. 
The next ' commemorative discourse was preached by Dr. 
Price, who was succeeded, in 1788, by Dr. Rees, and he by 
the younger Mr. Hugh Worthington, of Salter's Hall, after 
whom followed Dr. Priestley, with whom, we believe, the 
series of annual sermons ended. From the beginning of the 
design. Dr. Rees was looked up to as the person best qualified 
to discbarge the duties of a resident tutor in the natural sci- 
ences ; and he continued to do ^ as long as the institution 
existed. But though great things were expected fivsm the 
New College, as it was called, there were not wanting sonie 
persons of shrewd judgment, to foresee and predict the speedy 
fate of this splendid edifice. One objection to the new es- 
tablishment, was the expensirehess of, the ^stem of educaUon 
therein adopted ; and another, of equid, if not greater import" 
T 2 



anc^ was die circumstance of admitting other pupils besides 
those intended forthe ministry. It was observed, that such 
an association tended to raise the views of theological students 
above the condition they were about to occupy in life ; and it 
was reasonably feared, that a promiscuous education like this, 
would rather weaken than cherish the spirit of zeal and hu- 
mility which ought to be the leading characteristic of the 
Christian teacher. In answer to this, the English universities 
were referred to, wliere, it was swd, young men sometimes 
form connexions with the sons of the nobility, and thereby 
procure valuable preferment. But as it happens that the 
dissenters, while they remain such, can enjoy no ecclesiastical 
benefices or distinctions at all, it is surprising how such an 
idea could have entered the heads of intelligent men. And 
even faad there lieen any justification for sucli a plea, it could 
only have been one that was at direct varianca with the fun- 
damental principles of nonconformity, at least as far as regards 
the character and conduct of its ministers, of whom it is ex- 
pected that they should be abstracted from selfish views and 
worldly ambition. Considering all this, the decline of the 
New College at Hackney was no more than the natural con- 
sequence of an immature project ; lint there were other causes 
which combined to hasten its dissolution. The primary or 
ostensible object of the scheme, was the settlement of an 
academy to prepare young men for the ministerial oiGce, and 
on that account ample funds ought to have been secured in 
the first instance; instead of which, the expences of 
fablishment were such as to exclude youths of litde property 
from enjoying the benefits of l3ie foundation ; and as to elee- 
mosynary tuition, it was out of the question altogether. 
Again, the burden attached to the preceptorial chairs soon 
became too heavy for the yery learned persons who filled 
those situations; especially as the salaries and perquisites were 
far from proving an adequate remuneration for the sacrifice 
of so much time and labour. In the endowed schools. and 
coll^^ connected with the established, church, the masters 
and' professors are made.easy^ by the assurance that their 


Fatter days wilt be rendered combrtnble by a provision leg^y 
secured for them. Tliey are further stimidated to persever- 
ance by the prospect of advancement in the church ; few in- 
stances having occurred, in which the conductors of great 
schools, after spending some years in the honourable dis- 
charge of their painful office, have been passed over without, 
some promotion. But in the present case, the tutors at Hack- 
ney were doomed to incessant fatigue, without the least chance 
of realizing a fund.for their future support 

Kvery thing here was capricious; 'and the instability erf 
tlie fabrio soon became apparent in ihe declension of sub- 
Gcribers,. the paucity of scholars, and tlie secession of instruct- 
oiis. Dr. Kippis, who was now far advanced in years, left 
Hackney to be near bis congregation in Westminster; and 
Dr. Priestley, who, after hb settlement as the successor of 
Dr. Price, had taken an active part in the management of the 
college, quitted the kingdom in disgust, to end his days in 
America, Thus Dr. Reegj haying now passed the nieridia[i 
of life, was left almost alone, surrounded with difE^ulties, pp- 
pressed by labours, and perplexed by anxieties. It should 
also be observed, that the period was remarkably gloomy, and 
the aspect of the times very unfavourable to an institution, of ' 
this description. The horrors of the French revolution bad 
filled the minds of many dissenters, as well as of other mem.- 
bers of the community, with the dread of .witnessing simitar 
scenes in England. , The political sentiments avowed by Dr. 
Price in his &inous. revolutionary sermon, increased .the aft- 
■ prehension; and the allusion to that discourse by Mr> Burke, 
in his. celebrated " Reflections on the Ftench Revolution," 
spread the alarm from one end of the kingdom to the other ; 
insomuch, that numbers, whose doctrinal opinions coincided 
with those inculcated at Hackney, drew back fi-om counten- . 
ancing'^e academical establishment there, lest they should be - 
suspected of republicanism. 

Further than this, — it cannot be denied, that th^ religious 

principles of the dissenters, speaking of them as a general 

body, were now undergoing a very nuitenal diange ; or ca« 

T 3 


ther, reverting &st to the doctrintil standard of the old Va~ 
ritans and Nonconformists. About the time when the college 
at Hackney was projecting, some writers of powerful intellect 
had accused the dissenters with having abandoned the faith of 
their fore&tbers. This occasioned some warm discussion; 
and particular congregations, in various dtstncts, were ad- 
duced as proofs that the principles of the dissenters remained 
the same. In reply, it was observed, that these insulated 
societies were so &r trom furnishing a re&tation of the charge, 
that, on the contrary, they strengthened and proved it ; espe- 
ciaUy when it appeared, that the founliuns of knowledge were 
entirely under the direction of Arians or Socinians. The 
agitation of this question was far from being favourable to the 
new collie at Hackney ; end while the institution was in this, 
stage of decay, the death of Dr. Kippis put an end to it 

On this melancholy loss, Dr. Rees preached a sermon at 
the meeting in the Old Jewry; in which discourse he drew 
the character of Dr. Kippis very ably, and then concluded as 
follows : 

*'Such are the general outlinesof the character and labours 
of our deceased friend. The portrait, I am sensible, is not 
sufficiently just to the originaL In delineating a character 
which exhibits so many excellencies, and so few defects, none 
can suspect me of approaching to adulation. My re^Kct for 
him was great. I honoured him as a father. I loved him as 
a brother. But my aSection, I am confident, has not misled 
my judgment. By the favour of Providence, which marks 
the bounds of our habitation, I was led. in eaily life uito an 
intimate acqutuntance with him. Our acquaintance, as co- 
tutors and co-adjutors in public business, ripened into an 
established friendship ; and our &iendship continued, without 
so much as a momentary interruption, and with increasing 
attachment, for more than thir^-two years, to the day of his 
death. It must have been my own fault, if I have not derived 
advantage from his extensive literary knowledge, from, the 
wisdom of his counsels, and from the exemplaiiness of Jiis 


'conduct No apcJogy, I tnist, will be thoiigbt necessiwy fcp: 
introdufflng myself on tht3.oGeasioiu As. it mas my ambition 
to cultivate the friendship I enjoyed, it is^m; pride to have it 
publicly known, iha.t I valued tliM fetendslup as one of the 
diief hcnours and pleasures c^ my lifbt Tbe fdehd I have 
lost cannot be easily replaced." 

Having thus brought the history of this short-lured, Init 
once noted, lastltutioa to O' termination,, we must now nptiqe 
the literary career of Or. Rfees, which muiy prob^ly will be 
disposed to r^ret, with us, was ever so interrupted. 

About the year 1776 or 1777, the proprietors <^ Cham- 
bers's Cyolc^Media having been disi^fpointed in procuring a 
qualified person to superintend' a new edition <^ that importaif t 
and valuable compilati<H), were reoommeBded':to-employ Dr. 
Rees, who undertook the Hercubao labour ;. and in the course 
(^ thfcfolhiwing year, thefirst weekly. number made its appear- 
ance. The pubhcation took up near nine years, being com- 
]^ted, in four folio volumes, in. 1786; about which time, the 
learned editor was chosen a fellow of the Royal Society. A$ 
this undertaking forms an interesting feature in the history of 
general literature, we trust to be excused for giving a brief 
sketch of the otigin of the Dictionary, with some account of 
its improvements, and. the fmitatioas to which it has given, 

The first performance of^- the kind; was the "I^exicon- 
Technicum" of Dr. John Harris, which i4)peared in the year 
1708, in two volumes fcdio; and was afterwards enlarged by 
a supplfflnentaV volume ; the last edition being ia 17SS. This 
Dictionary possesses ^eai merit, a«id.may,.even now, as&r 
as relates to the mathematics,, be consulted with advantage. It 
was by frequently consulting' this work, in. tbe shop of his 
master, Senex, the globe<makei:» that E^htaim C^bambers was , 
led to obncuve the idea of a more.-con^T^ensive and f;»ieral . 
dictionary of science. Having: fiarmed.his [^an, be quitted, 
tbe counter to devote himself entirely to tbe execution of his 
im>joct, and in 172S appeaxed the first, edijion of tbe Cydon- 
T 4. 



pfledif^ in two' fiJio Tolumes, the King. Tbe 
rfftutation whic^ the author guned by this performance, pro- 
cared his election into the Boyal Society; and in 173danev 
edition eame outv whieb sold so rapidly that the very next 
year a third impression w«s called for ; which was almost as 
guiddy followed by a fourth in 1 74^1 ; and » fiftb in 1 746. 
After thffi, and wh3e a sixth edition was in eontQnp1atioii,.the 
proprietors tfaougbt it might be supplied by a supplement in 
two more Tolwnest for which purpose Mr. George Le.wi« 
Scott, matbematieail tutor ti> His- late Majestyr and- th» ladefo- 
tigabte Dr. J<^ Hill, were-selected as the compilers. Iirtbis 
state the Cyclopaedia continued some years, when the pFo- 
prietors formed the resolution of blending the ori^nal and 

. si^pleraent blether in one alphabet, with additions. To ex- 
ecute this design, Owen Rufiliead wa^ raigf^^ed : but he had 
not proceeded lar, when he died ; and the work stood still hr 
a eonsidenUjle tijne. Dr. Kippis was the next- person, we 
believe, to whom die intended new edition was intrusted p IhK 
finding the labour above his strength, he relioqpished it, and 
was succeeded by Dr. Rees. 

Id the " Btographia BritannJca," under Uie u^cle CSum- 
ierSf Dr. Kippis pays this just compliment to hb friend: — 
** It would, have been difficult to have found a single person 
more equal to. the completing of the Cyclopaedia than Dr. 
Bees; who, to a capacious mind, ta a large compass of ge- 
neral kncHvledgej and' an unremittii^ application, lautea that 
intimate acquaintance with all the branches of mathematics 
and phfiosophy, without which the other qualifications wouki 
be mefiFectual. The success of the work, thus improved, and 
digested into one a^habet, in four vdumes folio, hath ex- 
ceeded the most sanguine- expectations. This last! and beet 
edition of the Cyck>psedia began to be published in week^ 
numbers in 1778, and at the time of writing tliis article, (1783) 
the third volume was finished. The sale is at the rate of four 

- or five thousand numbers iu a week, And the demand is gob- 
tinuidly mcreasiiig. The names, therefore, of Chambers and 



Kdes will be handed down with great rqintatioa to poaUxity^ 
■ the first as the original author, and the second a» the C4»ii- 
pleter, of ihis^jand undertaking." 

Wbtti the popalarity of the work is ctmsideredj it » not 
surprising that it should give rise to imitations. The princi.- 
pal of these -were, ** Barrow's Dictumary of Arts and Sciences,"' 
in two volumes folio, 17SI ; "A new and complete Dictionary 
of Arts and Sciences," in four large octavo volumes, published 
without a name, but compiled diiefly by Benjamin Martin, in 
1763 ; " The Con^lete Dictionary of Arts and Sciences," by 
Temple Croker and others, three volumes folio, in the same 
year ; " The Encyclopiedia Britannica^" originally published 
in three volumes, quarto, at Edinburgh, in ]77Si and pro- 
gressively extended to ^rave twenty volumes, ^ce that 
time, the nnmber of rival publications, in different forms, has 
multiplied to an amaziog extent. But by iar the most cele- 
. bnited work of all that has hitherto arisen upon the model of 
Chambers, is the " Encyclop^die,ouDicti(HinaireRaisonnddes 
Sciences," begun at Paris in 174>S, by Diderot, with whom, 
. soon afterwards, was associated D'Alembert; the latter a ma- 
themetician of the first order, and the other a second-^-ate me- 
taphysician ; but both sceptics, if not indeed positive atheists. 
From translating the English dictionary, they proceeded to 
form an entire new one, and at length procured co^odjutors in 
the different branches of literature, by whose united efforts the 
work grew to the enormous magnitude of twenly-cuie folio 
volumes, without reckoning those which conttun the plates. 
The third edition, in thirty-six quarto volumes, appeared at 
Geneva in 1779; after which another, still more extended, 
was begun at Paris, the joint labour of Lalande, Condwce^ 
Monge, and other distinguished literary and scienUfic cha- 

Thus the old saying,, that the French invent and the 
English improve, was reversed ; for here, the Ent^clcqiedists 
- were certunly the copiers of an ori^nal desigu ; and it is only 
. to be n^relted, that, when they adopted the plan of Chambers, 
they did not at the same time observe the same integrity of 

882 DR. ABIlAtUM BEBt. 

toiind in the eKecatian of it Instead of this, tbey made tbet 
-dictxmary a vehicle for the promulgation' of priociplss de- 
structive of public and private h^pioess ; IhU these tenets are 
Eo artfully blended wkh practical ii^rmetioo and veascNoing 
-<»i sdentific sul^ects, as to «scape the observation of general 
readers, whose minds, widMMt suspecting any sudi thing, thus 
baoome tainted, end drawn unawares to infideUly. 

^jotwithst«K^ing this radical defect in the Em^rdop^die, 
yet, as a magaame of practical knowledge, Its merits are un- 
questionably very great; and the success which it met with 
fidmulated the proprietors of the Englisfa Cycli^Media, after a 
-tiqise of fourteen years, to enlai^ their woric in a similar 
-manner. ¥or this purpose Dr. Raes waa employed to jupec- 
intend the undertaking, and several other persons of con- 
'sidnable talents were engaged to discuss and e9q)lidn those 
sul^ecta with which they were, from their professional pursuits 
and peculiar habits, eminently conversant. Of -this vast, 
spirited, and eaq)ensive imdertaking, we shall nothere venture 
to enter into a critical examination. With respect to sodh 
vf^uminous compilations in general, it certfunly may be doubted 
whether they have not all departed widely irom the true de- 
«ign of a Lexicon, which is simple utUity. A dict»>nary of 
science, like diat of language should, perhaps, be a m&K 
book-of reference, for degnition and enplanatioD only ; instead 
of which, the compilers of riearly all the modem EncyclopaediAs 
have, in imitation of the Frendt iUuminati, rendered their 
•works inaccesnble to the mass of the public (who stand in 
most need of informadon), by the introduction of hypothetic 
'dissertations on abstruse questions, details c^ history, and pro- 
lix treatises upon c^mentary subjects. 

But, whatever may be thought of the partial impei&cti(HBs 
that necessarily belong to all undertakings of this nature, do 
one can deny that the CyclopsBdia, the first volume of which 
appeared in 1 802, was a truly gigantic task for any individual, 
even with the powerful assistuice derived from numerous dis- 
tinguished omtributors. Dr. Rees had the sadsfactidlD, how- 
ever, to see it completed in forty-five volumes, and to agiy 


the well-earned reputation whidi its able cxecotioH secured 
for him. We have already stated that he was dected a Fello* 
of the Roya! Society. At dateremt periods his emineot attain- 
m^t3 received similar tokens of respect from other public 
bodies. The University of Edmbui^ conferred on bim the 
degree of D.D. from the spontaneous recommendation of 
Dr. Robertson ihe[ bistorian, at^ that time prindpsl. He 
was chosen a Fellow of the Linnsean Society soon after its 
institution. More recently be was made an honorary Fel- 
low (^ the Royal Society of Literature, and was besides an 
honorary member of some foreign literaiy and sdentific msti- 

Before embarking in the vast undertaking of the new Cyclo- 
poKlia, Dr. Rees poblished several single sermons, sc«ne of 
which were the following. " A Sermon on the (XiUgation and 
importance of searching tlie Scriptures," 8vo. " The Advan- 
tages of Knowledge, a sermon preached before the supporters 
of the New College at Hackney, 1 788," 8vo. " Two Sennoos, 
preached at Cambridge on the death of the Rev. Robt. Robin- 
son," 1 790. " A Funeral Sermon on die death of Dr. Roger 
Flaxman, 1 795." Another, " On the deadi of Dr. Kippis, 1 795." 
" The Privileges of Briton, a Sermon on the Thanksgiving 
Day,Nov.29,1798." "Economy Illustrated and Recommend- 
ed, and a Caution against Modem Infidelity, in two Sermons, 
1800," 8vo. He also published " An Antidote to the Alarm of 
Invasion, 1803." " Practical Sermons," selected fixim his Pulpit 
Exercises, 2 vols. 1809, 8vo, second edit. 1813; and "The 
Obligation and Utility of PubUc Worship, a Discourse on 
the opening of the Old Jewry Chapel, in Jewin-street, ISOS," 

Throughout life. Dr. Rees never engaged in any controversy 
till the year ISIS, when he prmted an octavo pamphlet, with 
the title of " The Principles of Protestant Dissenters stated 
and vindicated." But here he may be said to have acted 
ddensively ; and it is not known that he any vrfaere ^peared 
as an opponent, except It was In writing the article of Poly- 
gamy, In hb folio Dictionary. Just at that time, the Rev. 


Martin Madan, of the Lodi Cbapel, published his &moii8 
work, entitled, Thelypthors; io which he maintmned the 
position, that whosoever seduces a young woman, is bound by 
the divine law to make her his wife, even though he may be 
already a married man. This strange doctrine, though far 
from being a new one, gave general ofience to serious persons 
of all parties, and, of course, excited a warm controversy. 
Dr. Hees took no other part in the dispute, than that of no> 
ticing it in strong terms, under the head of Polygamy, in 
the Cyclopaedia ; which so in'Jtated the author of " The]y- 
, pthora," that he addressed " Five Letters" to the editor, whom 
he accused of unfair dealing, and particularly in writing cri- 
ticisms on his book, in the Monthly Review. Those stric- 
tures, however, were not the produclion of Dr. Rees, but of 
Mr. Samuel Badcock, one of the acutest and most learned 
controvertists of the day. Dr. Kees, indeed, was an occa^ 
sional writer in the Monthly Review, in conjunction with 
Dr. Kippis, which circumstance probably led Mr. Madan to 
believe that the critiques upon hb work pi-oceeded from the 
editor of the Cyclopsedia. 

Dr. Rees vi^s gifted by nature with a mind of extraordi- 
nary powers. He had a singular quickness and clearness of 
perception, and a readiness of apprebensbn which enabled 
him at once to penetrate and to master the subjects to which 
he directed his attention. The range of his intellectual facul- 
ties was most comprehensive. 

His memory was, in a remarkable degree, faithful and 
tenacious, retaining all his mental treasures at his immediate 
dbpos^; and he added to these endowments a sound and 
discriminating judgment. There have been men who have 
possessed, in a higher degree, the imaginative and inventive 
faculties, and who have displayed talents of a more showy 
and spai'kling kind; but in the more solid and useful proper- 
ties of the understanding, none have sutpassed and few have 
equalled him. 

With mental capacities of so elevated an order, he was 
evidently qualified for the most extensive literary and scien- 



dfic attainments. There vras no subject with which he was 
not fitted to grapple ; and the vigour nlid assiduity with which 
he brought his talents into operation in the prosecution of his 
studies, enabled him to enrich his mind with an abundanC 
store of learning and knowledge. He did not, indeed, equally 
excel (and where is the human genius that ever did 7) in all 
the branches he cultivated. But if, as a classical scholar, he 
may not rank with some highly-gifted individuals who have 
attained distinguished celebrity in this department, his acqui- 
sitions were by no means inconsiderable. 

The mathematical and physical sciences had, however, en- 
gaged his chief study from his earliest years, and these he 
cultivated with eminent success. In the branches of literature 
-more immediately connected with his profession as a Christian 
moralist and divine — in biblical and theological leaniing, in 
metaphysics and ethics — his attainments were extensive and 
profound ; whilst on the other subjects of general literature 
he was well and deeply read. He was not a man to rest 
satisfied with superficial attainments whilst the means of com- 
pleter knowledge were within his reach. The talents and 
acquisitions of Dr. Rees were not matters of mere conjecture 
and opinion. He gave the most unequivocal and ample 
proo& of their reality, variety, and extent. It was never his 
object to study and learn in order to hoard up knowledge as 
an Dseless treasure. He looked to utility in all that he aimed 
to acquire. He coveted no attainments but such as he could 
render subservient to the practicol benefit of himself or of 
others. And the employments to which he devoted himself,* 
afibrded him abundant opportunities for bringing forth all 
that he had accumulated for the instruction and the improve- 
ment of the world. < : 

The incessant labour and close application which were de- 
manded by his literary and scientific pursuits, might be 
thought so fiilly to engross hb attention as to-leave no time 
for other public engagements. But these occupations, which 
to any other man would have fiimished the fiiH employment 
of an active life, were to him only subordinate to duties which 


he estimated as of infinitely greater importance. His prafe»* 
.sion as a Christian minister was always regarded by himself 
as bis highest and most honourable office. It was that in 
which he felt the deepest interest, and which he was anxioos 
to fulfil in the completest tnonner. All his other pursuits he 
endeavoored to render subservient to this ; and ha accordingly 
brought to hb pulpit exercises the varied acquiremeots of bis 
pn^ant miad, to add to their ricbnes% their fbrc^ and their 
practical efficacy. 

As a preacher, be was distinguished by the admirable sint- 
plicity which cliaractenzed the arrangement of his thoughts, 
and enabled his auditors, without effi>rt, to comprehend the 
whole of his meaning ; by the neatness and perspicni^ ofhis 
language, which was always plain, without approaching to 
vulgar!^, and at the same time easy, flowing, and vigorous; 
by the felicity of illustratioD with which he fireqnently gave 
new w^ght and power to familiar truths ; and by the search- 
ug appeals to the hearts and consciences of his hearers, 
which his intimate knowledge of the springs of human action 
enabled him to ^ply, and thereby to bring the great truths 
and precepts of religion home " to men's business anil 

I£s discourses derived, in the public delivery of them, the 
greatest advantage from his fine and commanding person-; 
from a countenance unusually expressive, beaming with intel- 
ligence, and glowing with holy earnestness and ardour ; and 
from a voice of great power, welt ad^ted to didactic addres% 
ta pathetic expostulation. 

The general striun of his sermons was practical. What 
he expiatiated upon the doctrines of divine revelation, it was 
always to point to their subserviency to moral purposes. The 
arena of controversy he seldom entered. When he wished 
to destroy error, his plan was to inculcate the opposite truth. 
He aimed rather to s^ than to storm the forti&uttifns of the 

Dr. Bees was a Protestant Dissenter on deliberate and 
rational convlctioD. He was ever the firm and zealous advo^ 



GBteof regions liber^, which he considered to be intihsately 
allied in thid country with the cause of nonconformity. As a 
member, and for many years the father, of the general body 
of Loodtm Dissenting Ministers, he was amonf^t the fore- 
most supporters of every liberal measure, and the steady and 
inflexible assertor of their religions privileges. The freedom 
be dumed for himself lie willingly ctmceded to others. He 
lived on terms of cordial intimacy with reli^ous professors of 
various communions; and «)uld number among his' mbst 
valued, ftiends churchmen of high rank and distinguidied 
eminence. His own theology he was wont to describe as the 
moderate scheme, lying between the extreme of opinion that 
prevail in the present day. Owning no human authority in 
religion, he yet avowed that he subscribed for the most part 
to the cxeed of the late Dr. Price; who believed the pre* 
esiatemx of Christ, though he dmied the doctrine of bis 
essential dhrinity. . 

In im politics, he was a M^ig upon principle ; but though 
firmly attached to the -cause of civil and reli^ous liberty, be 
was a dedded enemy to faction, and never enga^d in the 
contentions of parties. 

' He was an active nwnba' of all tiie prmdpid' charitable 
trusts in his own religious denomination. He was a manageif 
of the Presbytaian Fund for about sixty years, and during 
nearly fi% yeazs of that period, discharged the duties of 
secretary to that important institation with essential benefit to 
Ae various objects conbemf^ated by its benevolent foandeia 
tad. supporters. Dr. Daniel WiHiams's Trna reaped also^ 
for a long series of yeats, gneat advantage from his talents for 
bnnnese, which he devoted to the direction of its concehn 
with zeal and assiduity. Tbwe are mat^-odier i^ssenting 
tnists, which it is unnecessary now to name, having t^ di»> 
posal' of fonds for charitable puiposes, in which be acted a 
leading and influential part. In all these sitnatitHis,- it wax 
with'himapointof'Conseiraice to be always at his^post.' ■■ 

Dr. Bees was the prindpal distribute;, under His M^esiy's 
government, of the annnsl parliamentary bounty to ind^rat 


tfesenting ministers;—" and if," says Mr. Aspland, (in a 
funeral sermon preached in the Old Jewry Chapel, in Jewin- 
street, on Sunday, June 19, 1825,) " 1 were called upon to 
point out the most prominent excellence in bis character, I 
should name his conscientious discharge of this delicate trust, 
in the administraUon of which he preserved on the one hand 
his independence, and on the other his a£&bility and kind- 

To his QBtive country, Wales^ he was a great bene&ctor. 
From liinds in the distribution of which be shared, and from 
liu*ge sums placed annually at his disposal by opulent indivi- 
duals, who made him the channel of their unostentatious 
beneficence, he contributed a considerable proportion to re- 
lieve the pressing exigencies of Welsh ministers (without 
respect to their peculiar tbeolo^cal sentiments), whom he 
Uiougbt to be deserving of encouragement in thdr works of 
piety in their respective churches, When those worthy men 
were removed by the hand of death, be extended bis almost 
patemai care to their bereaved families ; and thus caused the 
heart of many a mourning widow to sing for joy. There 
never was an individual who effected so much good in this way. 

It does not always happen that men of the highest intel- 
lectual powers and attainments, are remarkable for the display. 
of those virtues and graces which are most attractive in the 
intercourse of private life; habits of literary ahstracticat 
sometimes operate as hindrances to tJieir cultivation of the 
social dispositions, and unfit them for relishing the pleasures 
of the social and domestic circles. But this was not the case 
with Dr. Rees. He shone as much in his private as in his 
public character. No man was ever more alive to the do- 
mestic affections, or .acted, upon them in a more exemfdory 
manner in the various relations of son and broths, husband 
and fether. By the acknowledged excellence of his character, 
and the. uriianity of his manners, he drew aroiind him a large 
number of friends, with whtHu it was his delight to associate; 
and his almost unri,valled powers of conversation gave in- 
creased interest and animfttion to every social scene in i^iich 

I ., ..t, Google 


he aj^teared. No one wbo ever partook, «^1 forget his 
cheerful, cordial hospitality. 

' In hb otoi«onal itflercoute^ as 6oe' of the r^reaentultes 
of the body of dissenting tnibisters, with Ifis Majeity'd court 
aad gdvenunent, Dr. Rees was courteous, dignifie*^ ftnn, 
and upright He was honoured twice with b^iilg d^uted by 
the dissenting mmisters t^ the three deobminatibns erf* Pro- 
testants, to present thdr address of cvftgrafulatutn to King 
George III. and to King George IV., a fitct whi<!b, perhaps* 
never before happened to the same num. In the former taae. 
Lord Hali&x* the lord ' in waiting, otpressed a regret that 
Dr. Rees did not belong to tlie right church, 48 then his 
loyalty might hare been personally rewarded. 

The character of Dr. Rees's mud was that of a sober 
thinker, and logical reasoner. He possessed equal powers of 
comprehension and discrimination. His eyes betokened his 
sagacity. He was quick in discerning men's foibles, and he 
sometimes lud them under tribute for the promotion of the 
objects of religious charity that lay near his heart. " I do 
not represent him," continues Mr. Aspland, *' much as I 
revered him liring, uncerely as I mourn him dead, and last- 
ing as will be my remembnmce of his talents and his virtue' 
— I do not r^resent him as a perfect man. He had dotibt- 
less his infirmities, but th^ were mere infirmities — and they' 
were as few as I ever saw (for here I must speak my own' 
opinion) in a man <^ the same natural robustness <^ mind, 
the same resolution, the same zeal, and the same anxiety for 
the great purposes to which his life, and heart, and soul, and 
strength were devoted. The bodily weaknesses that were 
the consequences of extreme age, were no part of himself, 
and cannot be brought into the estimate of his character. 
His heart was always right His Christian principles never 
forsook him. Iliey had been the guide of his youth, and 
the distinction of his mature life, and they were the stay of 
his old age I " 

In 1798, Dr. Rees suffered a severe loss by the death of 

VOL. X. u 



his son, Mr. Philip Lewis Rees, in a consutnpti<Hi, at the age' 
of twenty-two. 

' For several months before his death, Dr. Rees's health hJad 
been visibly on the decline ; but bis life insensibly waned to its' 
close without much bodily suf^ing ; and on the 9th of June, ' 
I&25, in the eighty-second year of his age, he sank, with the / 
hope and patience of a Christian, into the repose of death, with- 
out a struggle. He died as he lived, respected and beloved by 
all who had opportunities of appreciating the various excel- 
lencies of his character : and his memory will be long che- 
rishect and revered by a large circle of friends, who have 
either benefited by his public religious instructions, or enjoyed 
the pleasure of his interesting conversation in the more inti- 
mate and tiuniliar intercourse of social life. 

" Semper honos, nomenque tuum, laudesque manebunt." 
His body was interred on the I8th of June in Bunhill 

The foregoing memoir and character of Dr. Kees are de- 
rived from his Funeral Sermon, by the Rev. Thomas Aps- 
land>; from an Address delivered over the body previously 
to its interment, by Dr. Thomas Rees ; from the Public 
Characters ; from the Imperial and Gentleman's Magazines ; 
and from the Literary Gazette. 


No. XI. 

The Right Honourable 


1 HE family of this distinguished nobleman was ennobled to- 
wards the middle of the seventeenth century, soon after the 
close of the civil war ; the first patent being dated April 20, 

The late earl was the eldest son of Henry, fourth Earl of 
Carlisle, by his second wife Isabella, daughter of William, 
fourth Lord Byron. He was bom May 28, l?i8; and on 
the death of his father, Sept. 3, 1758, succeeded to thcN 
family title and estates. His lordship was sent early to that 
celebrated seminary erected by the " ill-fated Henry," * 
where so many of our noble youths have been educated. At 
Eton College he was the contemporary of many men who 
afterwards attained either high rank or great celebrity; of 
Hare, whose verses were appended to the school-room on 
account of their excellence ; of Charles James Fox, whom he 
was fated to admire, " ere yet in manhood's bloom," to dif- 
' fer from at a riper age, and again to support; and of the 
late Duke of Leinster, with whom he always lived in habits 
of familiarity. It was here too that his lordship formed an 
indmacy with the late Mr. Storer,f the son of an eminent 

■ Eton College vw founded by Heni? VI. in 1440 

'•' Let softer str&ins ill-fated Henry mourn. 
And palms etenufclfloun^ round hia um/* 
f Hr. Storer, on his death, became the benefactor of the aemiaary which he 
had adorned Trbile living; bequeolhing to it his aupeil) coUectiDn of booki suit 

u 2 f-- I 


planter m the island of Jamaica. This young gentleman, 
ingenuous, engaj^n^ and accomplished, beloved and ad- 
mired by all bis schoolfellows, became ^e &st (riend of Lord 
Morpeth (by which title the earl wss of course known during 
bis fether's life-time), and they were the Pylades and Orestes 
of Eton. It was with such companions as these that Lord 
Carlisle was accustomed to spend bis early days in alternate 
study and recreation. It was with them that he imbibed a 
taste for the classic page, or trundled the hoop, bowled at 
the wicket, or manned the galley, and was borne on the 
bosom of the silvery flood. It was here, too, that he pro- 
bably caught the inspiration of poetry, and might have ex- 
ckumed : — 

" First in these fielils I try the aylvan strains, 
Nor blush to sport on Wlodsar's blissful plains : 
Fair Thames ! flow gently from thy sacred spring, 
While on thy banks Sicilian muses sing ; 
Let vernal airs through trembling osiers play, 
And Albion's cli& resound the rural Uy." 

But the time at length arrived when his Lordship was 
compelled to quit thb retreat of the muses, and tread the 
busy haunts of men. He rep^ed to the continent, and 
made the grand tour. Curing his traveb, although he was 
not a peer of Scotland, he was elected one of the Knights 
Companions of the Order of the "niistle, and was invested with 
the insignia of the order Feb. 27, 176S, at Turin; the King 
of Sardinia representing his Britannic M^esty on that oc- 

On the expiration of his minority, Lord Carlisle returned 
to England, and took his seat in the House of Peers. Het 
presendy became one of the gayest noblemen in the capital. 
Possessing a small but elegant figure, in which symmet^ was 
happily blended with agility and strength, he shone a meteor 
of fashion. Elegant in hb dress and manners, with his green 
ribband across his vest, a brilliant star sparkling on hb sid^ 
and his person otherwise decorated with the greatest care, 
he was considered one of the chief ornaments of the court. 

roRD Carlisle:, Qqs 

It IS DO less singular than true, that at that penod Mr. fox 
and Lord Carlisle were the two greatest beaus of their day > 
and, among other juveoililies, endeavoured strenuously, but 
ineffectually, to introduce the foreign foppery of red heels. 
But the intoxication (^ yoniii soon yielded to " maturer 
(MunseU;" uid after the lapse of a few years the country 
beheld them resuming the ori^nal bent of their nature and 
education, and contending in the lists of Parliament for the 
prize of eloquence, and the meed of fame. 

Lord Carlisle entered on the political stage at a time when 
the goremment of his late Majesty was almost paralyzed by 
the selfish contests of Action. At length, however, Lord North 
obtained the ascendant^, and appeared to be the first minister 
who had enjoyed the full confidence of his Sovereign since the 
Earl of Bute. At this epoch the empire had attmned an un- 
esunpled degree of prosperity. Our national debt was indeed 
large, even at that period, but our means were ample, and 
our resources untouched. A glorious wtkr, terminated by a 
magnanimous, if not an advantageous peace, had rendered us 
respected abroad ; our trade at home was in a flourishing 
state ; and our colonies in another hemisphere appeared to 
regard us with a filial eye, and to look up to us for securi^ 
and protection. But the differences wiUi our trans-atlantie 
possessions sofMi put an end to all these flattering prospects. 
We found ourselves engaged in an unnatural and hopeless 
contest During the earlier part of it, the Earl of Carlisle^ 
who began to distinguish himself in Uie House of Peers, was 
sworn a member of the privy council, and nominated tjea- 
surer of the household ; and when it was found that measures 
of coercion had fiiiled in thdr anticipated efiect, a diflbrent 
plan was resorted to ; and this nobleman was selected, on 
account of his acknowledged temper and moderation, to act a 
conspicoons part during the disputes between the mother 
country and the insurgent colonists. 

The scheme of sem^ng commisnoners to America had 

already been tried, and had proved unsuccessfiil. In 1776, ft 

commission, at the head of which was Lord Howe, had in voio 

U 3 



endeavoured to restore public tranquiUity in America. Not- 
withstanding this previous failure, Lord North persevered in 
his efforts; and accordingly, in 1778, the Earl of Carlisle 
repaired to America, in the character of one of His Majesty's 
commissioners for the purpose of restoring peace. He was 
accompanied by Governor Johnstone, who was included in 
the mission, and by Mr. Eden, ailerwards Lord Auckland, 
It is well known that their joint efforts were ineffectual ; and 
that all their arguments failed to persuade the Americans to 
return under the government of Great Britain ; but it was 
acknowledged by all parties that the noble Lord at tLe head 
of the embassy executed the office entrusted to hiju in a man- 
ner that redounded greatly to his honour. 

Soon after their return, Mr. Edeo published four letters, 
which he addressed to his patron, Lord Carlble, on the spirit 
of party, the financial condition of the country, and the repre> 
seutations of Ireland respecting a free trade. Immediately 
after this, in October 1 780, the Earl of Carlisle, who had been 
nominated lord lieutenant of the East Biding of Yorkshire, 
was ^pointed viceroy of Ireland; whither he was accom- 
panied by his friend, Mr. Eden, who, in the cfq»dty of chief 
secretary, managed the interests of England in the Parliament 
of the sister kingdom. 

The period at which his Lord^ip was called upon to pre- 
side over the a&irs of Ireland was peculiarly arduous and 
critical. The administration of Lord North had become 
odious ; America had boldly thrown off her all^iance ; and 
lurious parts of the empire had strongly marked their dis- 
^probation of the measures of government. Ireland having 
been drained of all the r^ular troops for the purpose of car- 
rying on the contest in America, the inhabitants liad asso- 
ciated for their own defence and protection ; and an army of 
volunteers,, officered by gentlemen of rank and fortune, and 
headed by the Earl of Charlemont, was in complete possession 
of the country. The situatioa of a viceroy was therefore ex- 
tremely delicate ; more especially as a formidable and increas- 
ing party in exposition tended not a little to embarrass those 

vi Otitic 


'entrusted with the government, and obliged tfaem at times to 

' deviate from the course vhich bad been chalked out tor the^ 
conduct. Yet, notwithstanding these circumstances, the ad- 

. ministnition of the Earl of Carlisle was accompanied with 
many circumstances calculated to conciliate popular fevouT, 
and to meliorate the condition of an unhappy people. It was 

, during his lordship's government that a national bank was 
established ; and many excell^t plans were formed and biUs 
passed for encreasing the trade of a portion of the empire 
unjustly deprived of many privileges and immunities to which 
it was entitled. 

In the mean time, the existing British caUiiet was tbreaS* 
ened with destruction. Lord North, -unfortunate in his at- 
tempts to subjugate America, and perceiving the storm that 
was gathering around htm, wished to escape its fiiry by with- 
drawing &om public a^rs. The Marquis of Rockingham, 
the Duke of Portland, Mr. Fox, Mr. Burke, Mr. Windham, 
and their political adherents, had, in &ct, already hunted the 
minister into their toils, and were preparing to divide his 
spoils. About the end of March, 1782, an entire change took 
place, and the government of Ireland &11 to the share of the 
Duke of Fordand. 

This event occurred at a period when the E^I of Carlisle 
happened to be negotiating the repeal of so much of the 
statute of George I. as affected the legislative independence 
of Ireland ; and it was accompanied with some circumstances 
that rendered his recal fiir from agreeable. The Irish par- 
liament, howevo*, was not unmindful of the services of the 
viceroy; for, after the appointment and arrival of his success<»', 
the House of C<Hnmons, on the 1 5th April 1782, passed the 
following vote : '* That the thanks of this house be presented 
to the R^ht Honotirable Frederic Earl of Carlisle, for the 
vrisdom and prudence of his administration, and for his uni- 
form and unremitted attenticm to promote the wel&re of this 
kingdora." Thus ended the viceregal government of Lord 
Carlisle in Irdand. Dormg its contuiuance, great benefits 
t^pear to have been coDtemtidated in beh^ of the pei^de of 
V 4 


.^96 xbKB tAULmx. 

that country ; and as mudi WM achieved as tbe short ptriod 
of Uie nolilfi Lord's residency and kb sndden aad unracpectsd 

recal iroald pennit; 

The denuse, however, of that gnat and dinnterested patifM, 
the Marquis of Rockinghani, dissoJTed all the hopes end pn>- 
Jects of his co-adjuton. Fmn ihat moment, a ^rit of per^ 
aonal a^randisameD^ which had been checked by bis nrtaes, 
•{^>eared to infect thrar councils, and to sjHvad jealousy and 
suspicion among thdr ranks. In consequence of the ssb- 
sequent fhnfgp*, we 6nd the Earl of Carlisle enjoying the 
honourable iq)pointment of steward of the househdd ; and be 
aofm'after succeeded to the still iaore dignified and confiden- 
tial one of lord privy seaL But a varie^ of imponsot at- 
teivtions soon oisued. It became difficnlt to preserve a firm 
feoting amidst the vi^canic e^losioms of politics. At lengtfi 
the extraordinary genius of one man &>r a while tranquillized 
the tempest until the French revolution became the prognostic 
of a new and still more portentous storm. 

During the discnsnons ihst took place in ParliameBt in 
1^89, relative to the r^eu^. Lord Carlisle took an active 
part in &voar of dm chums of the hcdr-apparent llie 
(pinions of the people were greatly divided cm this subject. In 
Ireland, it is true, the parliament evinced a dedded inclinatioo 
to consider the Prince of Wales as of right the temporary go- 
vernor of the kingdom during the incapacity of his royal father. 
But it was otherwise in this country ; for while some broadly 
asserted diat the prince had the same hereditary ri^ to the 
full esento of the powers of royalty, aldiouj^ in trust, that 
he would have had in the case of the actual demise of the 
soverdg^ ; others piakitained the converse of that prt^Kisition, 
and i^umed the idea of an hereditary ovmershgi, as something 
aavourii^ of th^ obsolete preten»ons and exploded doAines 
of the house of Stuart. Mr. Pitt declared, *' diat the Prince 
of Wales had no more right to the regency than any other 


It is well known that the House of CommcKts passed three 
jresolutiona in wdxfrm^y to the sentimenU of Uw ^rime 

^ORty CARLISLE. &&7 

minister. Wlien the subject came before die Home of Peers, 
a warm debate took |daee, in the course of which the SaH of 
Carlisle, in a brief but el^toit speech, asserted the claiitis of 
the Prince of -Wales. It was his lordship's opinion, that 
** as a de£dency in one brandi of the legisla^re had been 
proved, that defici«icy ought to be supplied, and that the 
circumstances of the times were fully sufficient to- £rect tne 
wisdom of pariiament how to accomplish that object, without 
htrriag recourse to periods dissimilar in all respects. He 
therefore d^recated the idea of searching for precedents to 
influence th^r proceedings ; and as to the phantom of right 
which had been so much contended for, he considered it ds 
a false light, meuit to bewilder and lead thdr lordships fnan 
the way of their duty, while the whole nation pointed direct 
to the h^r-apparent" His Lordship concluded by hinting 
with a truly prophetic spirit, that if the peers swerved froib 
the right course, the example would not be imitated in Ire- 

I In 1791 we find his Lord^p once more acting in oppo- 
sition to Mr. Pittas administration. At the period we allude 
to, the Turks and Russians were still at war, and the suti- 
cesses of Catharine IX. were such as to indicate the speedy 
downfiill of the Ottoman empire. This princess, however, 
notwithstanding her masculuie ambition* perceived that the 
time was not quite arrived when she could place a successor 
<Ht' the throne of Constantine, and garrison the uicient- By- 
z«itium with her wrmies. £3ie exfKessed herself Oontent, 
ther^r^ widi the fortress of Oczakow, aod assumed great 
credit for this moderation, although it wa» evident that the 
possesBiMi of that fortress would enable her to retain the 
Crimea, and in the case of a fiiture contest, (which she had 
always the means <^ provoking) would render her efibrts more 
destructive to the enemy. In ^is state of albirs it was de» 
temined by the English ministry that Great Britmn should 
arm to t^ipose the claims of Russia, and vindicate the cause of 
theTurks; and on the 28th of Mardi, 1791, a messt^e from 
the- Kit^ was brou^t down to both Houses of FartiMnent, 


acnouncing the armament and its cause, and calliog npaa 
them to assist His Majes^ ia his ^orts to eSect a pacificadon 
between Russia and the Porte, and therd>y to restore general 
tfanquiUit^ on a secure and lasting foundation. 

When the subject came to be debated in the House of 
Lords, Earl FitzwiUiam strenuously opposed the address 
which was proposed by Lord GrenviUe, and moved an 
amendment. No minister rising to explain or defend the 
conduct of government, after Lord Stormont and Lord 
Porchester had briefly reprobated so unusual a silence, the 
Earl of Carlisle took the opportunity of expressing hb 
objections to the original address. His Lordship said, ** that 
in the course of his parliamentary attendance he had often 
witnessed the contemptuous behaviour of the ministry, but 
never in so insulUng a manner as on that occasion. As the 
matter stood, he contended that it was impossible for lliat 
house to know whether they were then called upon to assist 
Russia in any of her schemes, or to support the Turks. 
They could not vote the address but upon confidence, and 
confidence merely; and he begged to know upon what 
.ground ministers called for such confidence? Did they rest 
their claim on their conduct last year — on the armament 
which had then taken plac^ and the object of which, 
whether against Spain or against Sweden, no one ceuld 
pretend to divine ? If the present measure was in contem- 
plation at the commencement of the session why did they 
disarm ? Why not use the force they had then afloat ? As 
it was, the fleet bad served only to pillage the public, and to 
make a show between the Isle of Wight and Portsmouth. 
If we were resolved to enter into continental alliances, we 
ought to have made such as would be most hkdy to prove 
serviceable to us, and to have considered that Russia was 
the natural .aliy of this country. We had ne^ected to 
cultivate the friendship of the Empress, and now we were 
going to provoke her hostiUty. If we were entering into a 
war from necessity, the country would willingly strain every 
nerve to carry it on, and to bring it to a speedy and suc- 



cessful coilclusion. No other war would be justifiable ; but, 
wbeUier this was a war of necessity, a war in consequence 
of existing coQlineatal alliances, or a war occasioned by the 
haughtiness and arrogance of ministers in pursuing a blno- 
dering system, the house was as yet wholly unable to 

The Dutch East India Company having sold two forts, 
Cranganore and Jacottah, possessed by them in the do- 
minions of Tippoo Saib, to the Rajah of Travancore, with 
whom they had entered into an alliance ofifensive and defen- 
sive, the indignant Nabob of Arcot immediately marched at 
the head of his army and menaced revenge. Whether the 
English government in India felt any just apprehension ftom 
this proceeding or whether they thought it alKirded a plau- 
sible pretence to reduce the power of the Sultan, the 
British forces were immediately put iu motion, and a long 
and destructive war ensued. As soon as the subject engaged 
the attention of Parliament, I^rd Porchester, on the 9th of 
April, 1791, moved three resolutions in the House of Peers 
with a view of putting an end to the war. All the noble 
lords who spoke on the occasion seemed cordially to assent 
to the first resoIutk>n, which declared " that schemes of 
conquest and extension of dominion in India were measures 
repugnant to the wish, honour, and policy of the nation ; " 
and indeed the chief objection to the two resolutions which 
followed seemed to be the fear of attaching blame to the 
conduct of Marquis ComwaUts, then governor-general of 
Bengal. — The Earl of Carlisle took a principal part in the 
discussion. He reprobated the idea of a new. war in India, 
and was of opinion that instead of attacking the Mysore we 
ought to have defended it* as he had always believed that 
Tippoo Sultan was our natural ally, and the Mahrattas our 
niUural enemies. With respect to our possessions m India, 
the noble Earl intimated his conviction that Bengal was the only 
oue.we really had, or indeed ought to have in that quarter 
of the, globe; and questioned if the remainder were to be 
con^dered as a resource in case of need, or as a millstone 



about ihe neck of the coundy; and in the words of Lord 
Cbadtam '* doubted whether the East India Compiuiy and 
the whole of th^r trade were not mere bubbles." His 
lordship concluded, bowerer, with an d^^t pane^^Tic on 
Ix>rd Cornwallis, " with whom," he observed, ** he had 
lived in uninterrupted intimacy and friendship for a term 
of thirty-four years, whose amiable manners and calm c(mi- 
ciSating turn of mind be was well acquainted with, and could 
not compliment too highly, although he disdained every 
speaes of flattery." Lord Carlisle added, " _that he had 
Some tide to speak of Lord Cornwallis on that occasion, as 
he was the very person who persuaded and prevwied upon 
his Itn^hip to undertake the arduous task of governing 
India, at a Ume when he knew of no other man that was fit 
for the office ; although he was sensible that it was agiunst 
liord Comwallis's inclination, and perhaps not for his 
advantage ; as his professional ambition and military ardour 
might have been more highly gratified had he gtme to 
Canada. Since Lord Cornwallis had been in India their 
lordships had seen him acting, not in one situation only, but 
in a variety of situaUons. He (Lord Carlisle) entertuned 
no doubt that in all and each of those situations his conduct 
would be found to have been fiilly justifiable ; and, at leasts 
until he could be beard he ought not to be censured." 

On the 27th of February, 1792, Lord Porchester having 
moved a vote of censure on His Majes^s ministers, ibr hav- 
ing urged the continuance of the armament agiunst Russia 
after they had determined to acc^t the conditions offered by 
that power; and for having thereby abased the confidence 
r^wsed in them by parliament, the Earl of Carlisle rose, and 
In allusion to some remarks which had beai made in the 
course of the debate on the happy form of the Engli^ con- 
stitution, observed, " that be was ready to join in the pane^ 
gyric ; for the constitution of England was one of the most 
perfect that ancient or modem times could boast ; but what 
would all the eEoquent speeches that ever were delivered in 
1dm house in ptalse of the constitutwn, or what would all the 



best writings on the same subject avd), if there were not a 
public conviction of its excellence ? In what did that excd;- 
lence consist? In maintaining a proper degree of jealousy 
and vigilance, in watching the conduct of ministers, in the 
freedom of debate^ and in the demarcation of that confidence •^ 
which he was ready to allow that ministers on great and mo- 
mentous occasions had a right to expect, and which, however 
high par^ mig^t run, he was certain would never be denied 
them." The noble Earl then proceeded to state, at consi- 
deraUe length, the reasons which induced him to support the 
motion of censure proposed by his noble friend. 

Nor was it in a constitutional point of view alone, that his 
Lordship was averse from the measures of the cabinet of that 
.day, for he steadily opposed every scheme, either on their 
part, or on that of any of their adherents, which did not 
appear to him to be fraught with advantage to the public- 
Accordingly, when Lord Grenville, on fhe 5th of June, 1792, 
moved the order of the day for the second reading of the bill 
" for the further increase and preservation of timber withia 
the New Forest, in the county of Southampton, and for the 
sale of rents, and the enfranchisement of copyhold tenements, 
in the s^d forests," the proposition was warmly disapproved 
by the noble subject of this memoir, who said he regarded 
the bill as a measure that could fairly be called by no other 
name than that of " a job," in fevour of a clerk at their table^ 
who was, at the same time, secretary to the Treasury, under 
the pretence of providing timber for the royal navy; and that, 
he was convinced, that the goodness and paternal affection of 
His Majesty (the readiest of princes to relinquish advantages 
of his own for the benefit of his people,) had been abused on 
the occasion. 

On the sudden recall of Earl Fitzwilliam from the govern- 
ment of Ireland, he addressed a letter to his old friend the 
Earl of Carlisle, detaJUng the principal events of his admt-j 
nistration, and explaining the motives by which he had beea 
actuated. This letter was soon afler published in Dublin; 



and a reply, in thirteen pages, appeared in the couKe of a 
short time in London; which rendered it evident, that the 
sentiments of the two noble lords were not exactly in unison 
with respect to Irish afl&irs.— In thb reply, after mentioning 
his early friendship for Earl F^tzwiliiam, and the continued 
respect that he entertained for him, Lord Carlisle laments 
that his Qohle friend *' had adopted a system difficult to 
recede from or abandon, before he had been long enough 
near th& source of real information confidently to take, by 
his own scale, the just measm-e of its magnitude." Both 
these pamphlets occasioned a considerable sensation at the 
time ; the first was reprinted both in England and in Ireland ; 
the second passed through two, if not three editions. 
' When, after the first burst of the revolution in France^ it 
appeared that the hopes which every rational and liberal man 
entertained from that event were threatened with disappoint- 
ment, and that the French, instead of employing themselves 
in the establishment of a free and wise system of government 
in their own country, were endeavouring to induce the people 
of other countries to rebel against their respective govern- 
ments, and to subvert every existing institution, Lord Carli^e 
took the alarm, and, quitting the ranks of opposition, ranged 
himsdf on the side of His Majesty's ministers, and contri- 
buted ail in his power to give efficacy to their measures. On 
the 26th of December, 1792, on the motion, in the House of 
Lords, for the third reading of the Alien Bill, Lord Carlisle' 
said, " that though not accustomed to agree with the present 
administration, yet he would support their measures in this 
instance. He had often thought a change of administration 
was the only thing that could be of essential service to the 
country, and his opinion was not altered ; but at that juncture, 
he was afraid that a change of administration might bring 
about a change of measures, and that, he thought, would be 
of very dangerous consequence. If there was to be a change 
of ministers, it might naturally be supposed, that the first act 
of a new ministry would be to negociate with France, and 



^at of all things was what he never wished to hear of; be-, 
cause it would only tend to strengthen our enemies, and could 
be of no use to onrsdves ." 

Again, in the debate on xhe King's Message for the aug- 
mentation of the forces, February I, 1798, we find Lord 
Carlisle expressing "his astenishment that there should be 
any opposition to a measure upon which he had conceived 
there could be but one voice, one heart, and one mind, 
throughout the nation at large. Of the necessity and justice 
of the war, he entertained no doubt. We had been driven 
into it, not only by the necessity of the preservation of our 
good faith with our allies, but by the total want of it in those 
who had been endeavouring to divert our attention by pro- 
fessions to which their every action gave the lie. He trusted 
that we should never be brou^t to negociate with men avow- 
ing such principles and abetting such practices, as those which 
disgraced the existing faction of France." 

For the distinguished loyally thus exhibited by Lord 
Carlisle, under circumstances of so critical a nature, he was, 
in 1 793, honoured with the Order of the Garter. 

In the debate on the address, January 21, 1794, Lord 
Carlisle repeated the sentiments which he bad expressed in 
the preceding year, and on the 17th of February he opposed 
the Marquis of Lansdown's motion for treating with Frnnce. 

On the 22d of May, 1794, in the debate on the Habeas 
Corpus Suspension BiH, Lord Carhsle asserted the necessity 
of the measure. 

On the 6th of January 1795, lord Carlisle moved an 
adjournment, which was carried, with a single exception, 
nemine contradicente, on Lord Stanhope's motion agunst any 
interference in the internal afiairs of France ; observing, •* that 
the noble Earl's proposition was not objectionable in itself, 
but objectionable or not according to the application of it. 
If it meant generally that no nation had a right to interfere 
T^ith the intemid affairs of another country, or with its govern- 
ment, lie could not have a difficulty in acceding to it; but if 


30i LOKD CARtlSlE.- 

tbe noble l^rd meant that oiut country had not a rigbl to 
interfere with another which had formed sack a systeni of 
government as contained in it seeds of alRrm and dangar to 
the safety of its own, he could not concur in it. It was not 
against the French republic that we directed our arms, merely 
because it was a republic, but because it threatened Europe 
with destruction ; a monster had sallied forth Iroiu its den 
and menaced the adjoining states with ruin and devastation ; 
common safety therefore made it necessary to hunt it back to 
its retreat, and, if possible, to hedge it in, so as to secure our- 
selves from encroachment." 

On the 3d of February 1795, Lord Carlisle again declared 
his approbation, under the peculiar circumstances of the times, 
df the bill for suspending the habeas corpus. 

That the iioble earl was influenced only by the most 
honourable and independent motives in the support which 
he gave His Majesty's ministers in the war with France, is 
manifest from his speech on the 16th of March, 1797, on the 
Earl of Albemarle's motion relative to the invasion of Ireland, 
in which speech he warmly censured the Board of Admiralty 
for their neglect ; as also from his reprehension, on the 3d of 
May following, of the silence of government with respect to 
the circumstances which attended the alarming mutiny of the 

In 1798 the noble earl published, for general distribution, 
a spirited tract, entitled '* Unite, or Fall." 

Lord Carlisle was a great friend to the union with Ireland. 
On the 19th of March, 1799, in the debate on the resolutions 
relative to that subject, his lordship adverted to his former 
administration of the government of that country as qualifying 
bim to speak on the subject, and remarked, " tliat if the 
Union should produce the desirable effect of ameliorating the 
condition of the Irish peasant, making him feel an interest in 
his exbtence, rescuing him from the sullen desp^r in which 
he held his miserable being, and amverting him into the child 
of hope and expectation, so as to put him on a footing with 




every description of British subjects, it would be a measure 
' the most politically useful that human invention could have 

In the debate of the 2Sth of January, 1800, on the King's 
message respecting an overture of peace from the consular 
gorerument of France, liord Carlisle observed, that the war 
in which we were engaged ** was not a war to retun a trifling 
colcmy, or to gain an extension of dominion ; but a war to 
preserve our laws, our liberties, our religion, our property, — 
every thing we held dear. We fought for security, and we 
should acccfit of no offers of peace, until it could be estabUshed 
on a permanent basis. To enter into a negociation at that 
time would be to ruiu/the country. Still, however, he thought 
it would be more prudent merely to thank His Majest^for bis 
gracious communication, and not to give any opmion upon the 
conduct of the executive government He thought very 
highly of ministers ; by their prudence and steadiness tfa^ 
had saved the country, which would inevitably have been lost 
had the opposition been allowed to carry into execution their 
impolitic projects. He only wished that they would not shift 
the responsibility which they themselves were so able to bear, 
upon others who must necessarily be incompetent judges of 
all the &cts of the case." 

On the 27th of February in the same year, Lord Carlisle 
again supported the Bill for the Suspension of the Habeas Coiv 
pus, on the ground that *< although tiie horrid principles which 
had occasioned the su^>ension appeared to be wealcened, they 
were not yet extinct." 

On the 2Sd May, 1800, Lord Carlisle opposed the bill 
called the Adultery Prevention BjU j contending " that no 
alteration ought to be made in the establbhed laws of divorce, 
unless it were unequivocally proved that such alteration was 
absolutely necessary. The argumento which had been urged by 
the noble framer of the bill served to confirm him (Lord Carlisle) 
in the <^inion he had always entertained, that monkish se- 
clusion (for there were legal as well as ecclesiastical nu)nks) 
was not adapted to qualify a man for le^lation. The studies 

VOL. X. 3t 



of a rcdiEe did not lead to a kiiowledge of the vorld. lo 
ord^r it^ flvirect morals itwas neeeaaBry to mix with societj'', 
to dive into the minds of men, to be acquunted witiv their 
tXtiortSj and searcb fw tbe motives of their conduct. For 
Vint ol' this kind of inforraittioa, a consummate lawj^r, w • 
hc^ prelate, might be very inadequate to the fbnnatioD of lawf 
calculated to make society better than it was ; a &ct of which 
tbebiH befiwe their lor^hips affiirded a singalar example." 

When Lord Damley, cm ^e administration of Mr. I^tt 
beiOg superseded by that of Mr. Aldington, was about ts 
more £>r an inquiry into tlie cof^uct of ministars respecting 
tfae management of ^e war, Lord Carlisle entreated the 
noble lord not to press his motion at Uiat moment, as pre- 
mbtore and ungenerous. " He allowed that the situatitm of 
the countxy ^jfls sudi as to call for the ablest head and handf 
to direct its afblrs; but he denied that any expectation of 
salvUtieB could be rationally entertained from the exertions of 
such a ricketty admimstration as that which was about te take 
the helm of the state." Ix>rd Damley having consented to 
postpone his motion to the 20th of F^rnary, 1801, Lord Caiv 
Hile then again declared the little confidence that be entertaio'- 
ed in the new administraCioii, and expressed bis wis^ that some 
light should be thrown on the causes which had bn^iai dowB 
t^e late stroi^ ministry. 

Whai the treaty of p«ace wkh France was concluded ia 
180S, LOTd Carlisle remonstrated strongly in the House of 
Lords agamst the neglect of the interests of the Stadtholder 
which that treaty evinced, and moved an address to His Mih 
jesty <m the subject; which motion, however, he was induced 
to witlidraw tm the assurance by government that the house 
of Orange would receive a fiill compensation for the losses it 
had suffered. 

In the debate on the address Nov. 23, I602, Lord Carlisle 
- ^ain decliued his disaj^obation of the peace, and his con* 
Tfetitm (rf the imbecility of the administration by vrfwch it had 
bees cOnduded ; and agan, In the debate on the Malt Duty 
]^ Dec. 45tfa,~he ot^eernd, " that, be i^ not guided in his 


Loan cAmosi^E, 8O7 

opposition by, any paltry modye-of obtaining pjofie or pov^^^ 
but if by other miiwsters the anjjjtion of BuoB^partf wm Wwly 
to.<ecei«e agreater check; if the tope and spirit of th^countrj^ 
were moje liJwly to b^ sjqjpQrted untjer the toaoaggauiBi <^ 
men of great«ri t^Qts. aqd of more ^v^fted wM?* he iq^f^ 
wish IQ see tbie gojKTniflf?*, of the bmvfe ojf 
such men." 

Onthel9th of April, ISQI, l4ord.:Cai'Usle obt<w«d>1Ra- 
jority a^fDst miiHBte)^ 3 1 to SO. on a mo^jpa for " aif humhlf^ 
address to 3s Majesty, prayiiig His.Maj^qty to (^yftdi?^ 
tanns.tbiit tliere be laid be&re the Houw an account of th^ 
d^ of instruction stmt to Uie officer comttimdifig the narvj 
€arfx ia the Sast Idd^es, pr^yious to His M^BSt/a mfiafif^gf^ 
to Parliaioent on the ruptiue with France." 

When the Karl of Liverpool (then Lord Hawkesbury) on 
the SOth of April, 1804, requested the Marquis of Stafford to 
poG^Mne bis motion raspecting the defence of the coi^ntry. 
31x>rd Carlisle again mauifested bis dis^probation of the 
Addington odministrstion, by observing "that if the cause 
of. the noble lord's request was that His Majesty's ministers 
were about to retire from the situa^^ns they then held, such 
a cireumstance vfould s«nd av«ry noble lord sod ^^ rtvin ii> 
the House bome,.conteated and rejoiced," 

III. the det^je OR the Address, 1 5tb Jaoiwry, 1 805, Lojd Car- 
li^ while he agteed to the address, protested ag^nst being 
pledged to approve of the conduct. of government with regojrd 
to the WW with ^aia; not merely with reference to the wajf 
itself but with reference to tfaft.mwmer in which it hfui bwq 

When, on (be 21st of February, IS05, it was proposed by 
government to suspend the standing orde^ of the House of 
Lords for the purpose of rapidly passing the Irish Habeas 
Corpus Suspension Bill, the Far^ of Carlkle cot^ended " that 
whatever reasons there might be for continuing the suspensioQ 
of the habeas corpus in Ireland, there could be none for 
ti%ating ParUapi^nt in that summary way. Acts of Parlia- 
ment were not subject to ^raplexy. T^iteir cliswlati(>n wa^ 
X S 



necessarily fi>re8een, and it became the duty of ministers to 
explain to that House what had prevented die introduction 
of this bill in time for it to undergo its regular investigation. 
It seemed necessary to create a new patent office to apprise 
ministers of the approaching death of their own acts. He 
was an enemy to this miexplained mode of depriving the sub- 
ject of his most mvalu^le privilege." 

TTie Additional Defence Act was treated with great ridicule 
by Lord Caiiisle in the debate on 3d March, 1805, on 
Lord Kii^s motion for a committee on the defence of the 
country. He observed, " that the pruse demanded by mini- 
sters for increasing our military strength seemed to be in an 
inverse proportion to their success. It reminded him of the 
line in one of Dryden's trt^edies, where a lover exclumed, 

' My wound is great, because it is so Bmall;' " 

On which a wit who was present, cried out, 

• Thea 'twould be greater, were it noae at ail.' 

When the conduct of Mr, Justice Fox was brought under 
die considersUon of the House of Lords in 1805, Lord Car- 
lisle toolcan active part in the defence of that learned judge. 

On the 20th of June, 1805, Lord Mulgrave having moved 
an address to the King, thanking Hb Majesty for his most 
gracious message relative to our conUnental connexions, the 
Earl of Carysfort moved an mnendmeut, in which I^ Majesty 
was requested not to prorogue Parliament until he should be 
able to communicate more fiilly the state of his negocialions 
with foreign powers. This amendment was supported by 
Lord Carlisle, who adverted, in strong terms| to the apparent 
negligence both of die naval and of the military departments 
of government. " Tliere was another reason," the noble 
earl observed, " for agreeing to the amendment of his noble 
friend, and diat was the dissensions which were knowu to exist 
in His Majestj''s cabinet. Instead of being employed in con- 
sidering how the country was to be extricated from its diffi- 
culties, almost the whole time of ministers was known to be 


LORD CAHLlSlb 909 

taken lip in endeavouring to reconcile disputes, which Were 
constantly occurring. These things were notorious; ereiy 
person in the street talked of them j he could not meet any 
body wholn he knew, without being asked who was in, and 
who was out. He could answer only, *I don't know; but 
the Rochfbrt squadron have been out, have done great mis* 
chief to our West India possessions, and have returned home 
unmolested; the Toulon squadron is out, and gone God 
knows where, and what mischief it may do.' " 

When bis old friend Mr. Fox came into power, he was 
wtvmly supported by Lord Carlisle. The first opportunity 
which the noble eorl took of expressing his ^probation of the 
new government was on 3d March, 1806, on the Earl of 
Bristol's motion respecting Lord EUenborough's having a seat 
in die cabinet counciL Lord Carlisle observed, that " the 
unfounded alarm which existed on the subject of the motion 
appeared to have been excited in order to lower the new ad- 
ministration in the eyes of the people, to disturb that public 
confidence which was placed in men of such great talents and , 
integri^ as those respectable characters who composed the 
present administration, and to banish the joy with which all 
ranks of men witnessed the paternal care of His Majesty, in 
colling forth persons of the most exalted talents to direct the 
a£birs of the country. He could not avoid condemning the 
choice of the moment at which die iaotion was made, for it 
was necessary that the new administration, to execute the 
arduoils duly which at that period of danger they had under- 
taken to perform, should have the public voice and opinion in 
their favour." 

On the 1 0th March, 1808, when the Offices in Reversion 
Bill was under discussion. Lord Carlisle " ol^ected to the 
bill, on the ground that no necessity for it bad been proved ; 
there was nothing but the mere statement in the preamble, 
that it was expedient; but why it .was expedient was not 
diown ! and that, in his opinion, was not a sufficient ground 
for calling on the King to give up a long-used preroga* 

X 3 



WbetidieiUhetsOflHslate Ma^Bty, intlifl lAtereodof the 
year 1810, lad his ooosequent mabili^ to sign a comnnsmoa 
for a fnrdier promgatioji, occaaoned llie sssembUng of par> 
liHfiieQt, after <nuioU8 a^oomMraits und delays, Lord Car- 
lisle en 'the CTtii of December, called the aUention of tbdr 
Jordshifw to the subject^ rerafirtced on the discr^iancy be- 
tween the bulletins bf the physidans and die evidmce given 
by those getideinen before their' lordships* committee, and 
urged the necessity of no longer postponing the measures 
ithieh the grave nature of the cue requu^. On the reso- 
tatkxu respecling Aie Rc^gency being moved by the Eari <^ 
livcfpotd, <m the 4b(h of January, 1811,. Lord Cdriiile 
strongly t^iposed that rescdution in poitientar n^iich restricted 
the F^ient for a ceittiin time Irom creding peers, as horn it 
** the country could draw only the conclusion, that t]>ere 
was a snsplcifm that die Prince of Wales woi^ ibake an 
improper use of his power." 

Lord Carlisle opposed the committal of the Frame Work 
Bill, <Hi the 2d of Mardi, 1812, saying, " that ^e [HCposi- 
tion to enact a law, suljecting a f^ov creature to the-ponish- 
taaent of deadi, was one from whidi humanity shrank, «id 
Dn wliidi reason ought tn pause ; " and maintsining that t^c 
mebesslty for the mettstm had not been shown. T%e noble 
earl repeated his vbjections to the bill, on the motion next 
day for its ^h^ rea^^. 

Tbertare few Instances hi the records of pariiament of a 
more mnly and honouraUe declaration than that of Lord 
Cailisle, on the l'9th of April, IS14^, in oppoeinga su^es- 
tion by Earl C3rey, with respect to the expetfient^ of pro- 
dudng papers explaOMory of* the rdcent diacus^ons at Cha- 
fflkm. He observed, ihat ">Mt9iougb he allowed himselF to 
ht ootnpiMtively -igaMan;: ^&a questions of that nature, yet 
be conld ea^y foresee chat many disadvuiti^ might be die 
consequence <of producing Hibise documents. It oii^t not 
to beforgotton, ttet Ei^limd "Was only one ont d fivegrnt 
piaties at present engaged ; md that die linneoessBiy publi- 
cation of those papers might create distrust, and even ^■• 



lAiMiio^ ti, a time when erents hsd occurred nbioh aren 4^ 
other day could scarcely have been hoped. A short time 
^nc^ when thanks {In wfaidi he so faejjlily ooncorred) wue. 
voted to Lord Wellingtoii, he did ei^ct to have heard iriim 
the opposition side of the house some acknovlei^muit, at 
least, that in the share which they had bcane in tocent events 
His Majesty's ministers had deserved well of tlwir country, 
lliat (^portanity Dot having been :taken, his lordship ^ it 
incumbent upon him (and the more so, heCause, for so many 
yeu^ he had fek it necessary to vote in resistance to the 
measures of government) to ^ve tiiem that ^dause which, 
they had so well merited, in securing the peace, iib^y, aod 
welfare, not <Hily of this coontry, but of all Europe. Ttus 
tribute <^ admirat^n might iiave been paid ,by an. individual 
who could Bpeok better, but who could not feel more thaa 
he did." 

Lord Caiii^e took a decided part in the discuaBi<Hi8 on the 
Com Bill, in 1815. When the Earl t^ Liverpool moved ibe 
second reading of the bill, on the 15th of March of that 
year, Lrwd Carlisle contended, " that the greater part of 
the argument, by which the noble eari had. supported the 
measure was fidlaonus. There could be no doubt, that to the 
lowest rank of tiie Idiioaring dasses of the communis ~ to 
the individuals who w<Hrk by task — a high price of com 
Would be productive of infinite miseiy, as it would 
attended by any circumstance of alleviation; and be was bit 
from thinking that legl^ative inter^^nce was demandedby 
&e great mass of the agricultural int^est of the country," 
On the motion for the third rqiding of the bill, five days 
after. Lord Carli^e ** otgected to the bill, as bc^ caloi- 
lated to esdte great discontent, without its having been 
shown that any advantage could be derived from it." — This, 
we believe, was the last important puUJc question en which 
the noble earl ezfo^ssed his i^union in the House of XjQrds. 
. We will now speak of Lord Cadisle as a votary of the 
■uses. It has beoi already t^iserved, that he cuttimted ,% 
X ♦ 



taate for poetry at a very early period of life, Many of bis 
juvenile compositions stole into two publications of the day 
desUned for tfae reception of iiigiUve pieces ; the one called 
" The Foundling Hospital for Wit," the other " The Asylum." 
Four poems by his lordship were published in 1778, in a quarto 
edition ; they conttisted of an ode on the death of Mr. Gray i 
two copies of verses destined for the monument of a favourite 
spaniel ; and a translation of a passage in Dante. The ode 
was written in 1771, at a period when the noble author had 
scarcely attained his twen^-thiard year, and exhibits an en- 
deavour at once to commemorate the merits of the poet, and 
also, in some measure, to imitate bis numbers. The passage 
translated from Dante is the twenty-ei^th canto, ccHituning 
the story of Count UgoUno — a story which the pencils of 
Sir Josbua Reynolds, and Mr. Fuseh', have so powerfully 
embodied on canvas. 

Iq 1601 appeared a splendid edition, from the press of 
Bulmer, of " The Tragedies and Poems of Frederic, Earl 
of Carlisle, Knight of the Garter, &c" — Of the poems, 
one of the most interesting is that addressed to Sir Joshua 
Reynolds, on hb resignation of the president's chair, at 
the Royal Academy. This is certainly his lordship's best 
poetical production, and while it conveys a most delicate com- 
pliment to the distinguished individual to whom it was ad- 
dressed, at a critical and interesting moment of bis life, at 
the same time exhibits great taste in the fine arts. 

In the collection is one song, which we believe was origi- 
nally addressed to Lady Margaret Caroline Gower, daughter 
of the first Marqtila of Stafford, to whom his lordship was 
married, the 12th of March, 1770, (^ whom he had ten 
children, six daughters and four sons, and who died on the 
35th of January, 1824. 

" The Father's -Revesnge," and "The Step- mother," are 
the names of the two tragedies in the same volume. In 
BosWell's " lafe of Johnson," there is a letter from Dr. 
Johnson -to Mrs. Chapone, who had prevailed upon the 



doctor to read this tragedy in manuscript, and to ^ve her 
bis opinion of it. The following is an extract &om tha 
irtter: — 

" The construction of the play is not completely regular , 
the stage is too often vacant, and the scenes are not suffi- 
ciently connected. This, however, would be called by Dry- 
den, only a mechanical defect, which takes away little from 
the power of the poem, and which is seen rather than felt. 

" A rigid examiner of the diction might, perhaps, wish 
some words changed, and some lines more vigorously ter- 
minated. But from such petty imperfections what writer was 
ever free ? ' 

" The general form and force of the dialogue is of more 
importance. It seems to want that quickness of reciprocation 
which characterizes the English drama, and is not always 
sufficiently fervid and animated. 

" Of the sentiments, I remember not ohe that I wished 
omitted. In the im^;ery, I cannot forbear to distinguish the 
comparison of joy succeeding grief, to light rushing on the 
eye accustomed to darkness. It seems to have all that Can 
be desired to make it please. It is (lefr, just, and de« 

" With the characters, either as conceived or as preserved, 
I have no fault to find; but was much inclined to congratulate 
a writer who, in defiance of prgudice and &shion, made the 
archbishop a good man, and scorned all the thoughtless ap- 
plause which a vicious churchman would have brought him. 

" The catastrophe is affecting. The father and daughter, 
both culpable, both wretched, and both penitent, divide be- 
tween them Our pity and otlf soiro*." 

^The plot of " The Step-mother " is less involved than that 
of '* The Father's Revenge ; " but the catastrophe is equally 
dreadful. In the one we behold a parent presenting the heart 

• ■■ I could Have borne mfvnes; that Btranger joy 

Woundi while it giniln : — Ihe long-imprison'd wretcb, 
Emei^ng trom the night of his damp cell, 
Shrinks Trmn the sun's bright beaou ; and that which flings 
GUdnesB o'er all, to him ia Bgooj, " 



fresh torn from the bosotn of her lover to the ttgotJieed- si^t 
of a distracted daughter ; in the other we Gpd a father and a 
son, instigated bj a cruel and revengeful woman, inflicting 
mutual death. 

In 1 806 Lord Carlisle published some verses on ^e death of 
Lord Nelson; and in 1808 (anonymously) "Tlioughts on the 
present condition of the Stage, and the construction of a new 
Theatre." — On the death of Buonaparte, onderstandtng that 
he had bequeathed to Lady Holland a snuff-boK, Lord Car- 
lisle addressed to her ladyship the following stanzas : 

7b Loibf Holland, on the Legacy c^a smj^piox, lefi to her h^ 

" Lady, reject the gift ! 'tis ting'd with gore i 
liiose crimson Bpot« a dreadful tale relate : 
It has been grasp'd by an infernal power ; 
And by that band which seal'd youqg Enghiea's fatei 

■■ Lady, reject Uie gift : beneath it's lid 

Discord, and alaughter, and relentless war. 

With every plague to wretched man lie bid — 

Let not these loose to range the world aSaii 

" Say, what congenial to his heart of itone 
In thy Boft bosom could the tyrant trace P 
When does the dove the eagle's frieodship own, 
Or the wolf hold the lamb in pure embrace ? 

" Think of that pile* to Addison so dear, 

Where Sully feasted, and where Itogers' song 
Still adds sweet music to the perfum'd air, 
And gently leads each grace and muse along. 

" Pollute not, tiien, these scenes — Ae gift destroy i ■ 
'Twill scare the Dryads from that lovely shade ) 
With th^m will fly all rural peace and joy, 

And screaming fiends their verdant haunts inirade. 

* HoUsndHouK. 



'* "nHit mystic box bath magic pover to raiae 
Spectres of myriads slaiDi a ghastly bond ; 
They'll vex tby slumbers, cloud thy sunny days ; 
Starting from Moscow's sndwS) or Egypt's sands. 

"' And ye, nbo bound in Verdun's treacherous chains, 
Slow pin'd to death beneath a base controul. 
Say, shall not all abhor, where freedom reigns, 
That petty vengeaiice of a little bouI P 

" The warning muse no idle trifler dream; 

Plunge the curst mischief in wide ocean's flood; 
Or give it to our own majestic stream. 

The only stream he could not die with blood " 

In the *':Hours of Idleness," ptiblished by Lord Byron in 
1808, his noble r^ative Lord Carlisle's works are said '* la 
have long received the meed of public applause, to which, by 
their intrinsic worth they were entitled." This forms a striking 
contrast to Lord Byron's subsequent asperity. On his coming 
of age, Lord Byron, wishing to t^e his seat in the House of 
Lords, ^plied to Lord Carlisle to introduce him ; and being 
just at that time engaged in the composition of the " English 
Bards and Scotch Reviewers," adverted in it to Ixtrd Carlisle 
in the following Unes i 

" On one alone Apollo deigns'to smile, 

And crowns a new Roscommon in Carlisle." 

Ute noble subject of this adulation, however, declining to 
acctimpany Lord Byron, the latter, for the lines just quoted^ 
substituted this heartless sarcasm : 

« No more will cheer with renovating smHe, 
The paralytic piling of Carlisle." 

And in speaking of Lord Carlisle's tragedies {the worth of 
which be had so lately proclaimed) says ; 

" So dull in f outh, so drivelling in his age, 
tiis scenes alone might damn our sinking stage ; 
But manegers for once cried, hold, euou^! 
Nor drugged their audienee with the tragic stuff.'' 


'316 LOBi) CABLlStti. 

Tlial; even l.ord Byron hunselF, however, becatne sensible 
of the gross injustici: of permitting personal feeling not merely 
to influence, but entirely to pervert critical judj^e&t, U evi- 
dent from that fine stanza in his exquisite poem, the Third 
Canto of Childe Harold, in which, after describing the field 
of Waterloo, and the gallantry of the British heroes #ho fell 
there, he thus particularly adverts to the fate of the Hon. 
Frederic Howard, Major of the 10th Hussars, Lord Carlisle's 
youngest son : 

" Their praise ia hymn'd by loftier harps than minei 
Yet one I would select from that proud throng, 
Partly because they blend me with his linCj 
And partly that I did his sire some wrong. 
And partly that bright names will hallow soug; 
And his was of the bravest, and when shower'd 

Ihe death-bolts deadliest the thinn'd piles along, 
Even where the thickest of war's tempest lower'd, 
"^ey reached no nobler breast than thine, young, gallant Howard!'' 

It now remtuns to treat of Lord Carlisle as a lover of the 
Fine Arts; and for that purpose, we will take the liberty of 
transcribing a passage from the thirteenth number of the in- 
resting monthly publication called " The Parthenon." 

" In the fine arts, to which Lord Carlisle was fondly afr^ 
tached, his knowledge was extensive; ^d of his correct 
judgment and delicate taste, his collection of pictures, which 
is much more remarkable for its value than its magnitude, 
bears incontestable evidence. This noble lord was not only 
a generous but a judicious patron of the arts. He loved to 
bring merit to light wherever he found it, and many artists 
who have risen to eminence, owe much of their success to 
the approbation and encouragement he bestowed on their 
early labours. He was an early friend and patron of Sir 
Joshua Reynolds, and when that eminent p^ter Was occu- 
pied on his celebrated picture of Ugolino, Lbrd Carlisle 
made, at the request of the artist, a translation of the passage 
of Dante, in which the dreadful story is told. The collect 
tion in Castle Howard consists, with the exception of a few 
family portriuts, almost entirely of pictiues by the old mas- 



ters, in various schools and classes, but particularly of Uie 
Italian schools. They are 'partly contiuned in a picture 
gallery, and partly dispersed about the different apartmeDts; 
the former, indeed, being not well constructed with regard 
to Ught, it has been found expedient to hang all the best 
pictures in the dwelling-rooms. The chief point of interest 
in this collection Is a small picture by Annibale Caracci, weH 
known under the name of the ' Tbree Marys.' This picture 
was formerly in the possession of the Duke of Orleans, and 
passed into the hands of the late Earl of Carlisle on the sale 
of that Prince's collection. Fuseli should have made an 
exertion in favour of this picture, when he talked of the 
school of Caracci's aiming at a combination of every ex- 
cellence, and tailing short of all ; for this" surely comes as 
near to the perfection of painting as any work can be ex,- 
pected to do. In all Hfe executive departments, in drawing, 
colouring, chiaro-scuro, composition, its excellence is aston- 
ishing, and in the still more important quality of expression, 
it is inimitably fine. Had Annibale Caracci painted no 
other work than this, his fame would probably have stood 
much higher than it does ; but it is not by a single work that 
a punter is to be judged. His talents can be justly esti- 
mated only by a general examination of his various produc- 
tions, and Annibale Caracci must be content to take a much 
lower station on the list of painters than the excellence of 
such a work as the ' Three Marys ' would seem to entitle 
him to.* His relation, Ludovico Caracci, whose sober 
twilight effects have given such an air of grandeur and solem- 
nity to his compositions, was perhaps the greater genius of 
the two, though his qualifications as a painter were of a less 
varied and extensive character. The ' Entombment of 
Christ,' at Castle Howard, which is also Irom the Orleans 
collection, is a very fair specimen of his powers of execu- 
tion. The figure of our Saviour is drawn with admirable 
sdence, and the whole composition is distinguished by a 
■ It k much to be regretted that there exitta do tolerBble print of tbii admirable 
work. Sharp, we understand, was occupied in no engraviDg from it Tor Kime ;tm 
prerioui to hii death, but we have Dot beard whether it waa ever actompliibad. 

. ioogic 


degree of repose and solenmity beautifully ad^ted to tbe 
sut^ect. IlieFe ia a curious and interestiDg specimen in 
this coliection of an early Flemish punter, named MabeugS) 
a coflipositioa of a coosiderable number of ^ures ia a grett 
vuiety of rich dresses, with landscape^ uvfaitec&iNi aQioi^ 
&C. all finished with the most dabovate nio^y, a»d of tbe 
most brilliant colours; a picture which) one would fiwicy* 
must have consumed the greatest part of a lifetime to execute 
and no doubt obtained tbe highest reput^on (at its autbwi 
at tbe period at which he lived, though now it can be intaresit* 
ing-fxily as a specimen <^ the antiquity c^ act. There' al-e 
sereral very fine portraits ; one particularly, by VelasqiKo* 
full of depth, ricbness, and powerful effect of Nature. Oo# 
^cellent spedmen of Vand^e, a ptH^ait of his friend 
Si^da's ; and a fine: head of the famous Earl of Aruodd, 
I^ Rubens. The Snyders possesses . all that sjjx^tlicity and 
truth which characterize the best works of Vandyke, and is 
evidently painted con amore. It b a spedmeti of hit ¥eiy 
best s^la, before his love of money, and tbe extraordinary 
d«nand for his works in England, bad led falin into p»tial 
negligence and manner. The Earl of Arundel has, like 
most of Rubens' portraits, a powerful look of Nature, com- 
bined with a great di^lay o£ executive skill. It shows s 
power of seizing on the most prominent charactwistics of 
objects, and (^ rendering them with a bold fidelity of hand- 
Greatly similar, though with less vigour and confidence^ 
is the style of Reynolds's portraits, of which there are also 
two or. three very chamuDg specimens at Castie Howard. 
Lady Cawdor, when a child, and tbe late Countess of Car- 
lisle are tbe best, the former full of the expression of infaii^e 
simplicity and artless grace, the latter teeming with the more 
finished diegaace of nuturer beauty. A fine fit John, by 
Donaenicfaino, smne excellent specimens of Canaletti,.and a 
^riety of other pictures, by different masters, contribute 
towards the ccmtentsof this collection.'' 

In the year 1804 Lord Carlisle presented to the Seen and 
Chapter of York, for the embellishment of tbe tninster, a 



window of be&ntifttl painted glass, purchased during the 
revoluti<HUU7 troubles in France, irom the church of St. 
Nicholas at Rouen. The subject is the Visitation of the 
Vir^n Maiy; the figures are as large as life, admirably 
' drawn : and the composition has been always considered as 
having been designed either by Sebastian del Fiombo, or by 
Michael Angelo. In 1811 his lordship presented to York 
minster another beautiful window of stained glass, in a pure 
Gothic style. 

The noble earl died at Castle Howard, on the 4th of Sep- 
tembeTi 1825, in the seventy-eighth year of his age; leaving 
only two noblemen living the Duke of Gordon and Earl 
Cltzwiiliam* who, with himself, w&x in possession of their 
titles and estates in the reign of George the Second. 

"ITie " Public Characters," and the " Parliamentary De- 
bates," are the principal sources whence the forcing 
MeiBoir has be«t derived. 



' AND PERTH; M.B.E.I.N., 07 FBAMCE, &C. &C. . 

1 HE following memoir b principally extracted from the pages 
of the Imperial Magazine, with a few interwoven paragr^hs 
from the Philosophical Magazine, and the Literary Chronicle. 

Dr. Tillocb was a native of Glasgow, where he was bom 
28th February 1759. His father, Mr. John Tdloch, filled 
the office of magistrate for many years. He also followed 
the trade of a tobacconist, and was highly respected by all 
ranks of people, both as a merchant, and in his official ca- 
pacity. Alexander, being designed for business, received in 
the place of his nativity an education suitable to the station 
he was intended to fill. We ore not aware that he manifested 
any particular indications of genius at an early age ; but his 
habits were sedate and thoughtful, apparently arising irom a 
conviction that he knew but litde, and had much to learn. 
On leaving school he was taken to his intended occupation ; 
but as his intellectual powei-s b^;an to expand themselves, 
his views were directed to objects more elevated than any 
thing which a tobacco-warehouse could affi)rd, and his mental 
energies soon arose above the mere manufacturing of an 
Indian weed. 

Ardent in the pursuit of knowledge, and sanguine in his 
expectations, the occult sciences, in early Bfe, at one time 
attracted much of his attention ; and when animal magnetism 
was introduced into this country, its novelty and charms were 
not without thetr influence on his youthful mind. The magic, 
however, of this delusive science soon ceased to operate ; yet 
judicial astrology he was never disposed to treat with sover- 


Da. TILLOCH. 321 

rdgu ofHitempt. But it was not long that be wandered in 
these visionary regions ; be soon taw the fi)Uy of pursuing 
phantoms, and, without loss of time, allied bis talents to 
the cultiTatitn of that which promised to be useful to man- 

Aniaog the various hraodtes of science and the mechanic 
arts, those which ccmducsd to the progress of literature chiefly 
anested his attention ; and though totally uninstructed in the 
art of printing, be soon ctmceived that die mode then in con* 
stant practice w<s susceptible of considerable improvement. 
He accordini^y hit i^khi tbe expedient when the page waq 
set up in typ^ ^ taking off an impresnoa in some soft sub- 
stance, in its comparatively fluid state, that would harden 
when aqpoaei to the action of fire^ and thus become a mould 
to Mcehfe the metal when in a state of fusion, and form a 
pbue every way correspondent to tbe page whence the firft 
impressitni was obbuned. la other words, be laid the tbun" 
dfllion of stereotype printing. It may perhaps be said, that 
tlus art was praetised by Vaqder Mey and Mullen, at I^eyden, 
about the end of the sixteenth century, and some antiquaries 
tmn assart that it was known to the Romans, Without, 
however, entering into an inquiry which, however interesting, 
Is tbreign to our present purpose, we may remark that tbe art 
was lost, and that at tbe death of Vander Mey tbe art of 
printing with solid blocks ceased. It is true that about the 
year 1725, Mr. Oed, a jeweler of Edinburgh, though unac 
quainted with what Vander Mey had done, devised tbe plan 
of pnnting frmn plates, and in 1733, with the aid of a soil 
whom he had apprenticed to a printer, published an edition 
of Sallnst, wbiob was printed fVcMB metallic plates. Another 
-work, ' The Life of Ood in tbe Soul of Man,' was also printed 
by Uie Geds in 1 743 ; but so much waa this art undervalued, 
^Bt these works were tbe only evidences of tbe art Gred left j 
and when, in 1751, hb son attempted to preseeute it, he met 
with so littie encouragement that he abandoned his des^, 
and vrent to Jamaica, where fae died. With him the art sunk 


322 DR. TILLOdH. 

a second time into utter oblivion. To Alexander lllloch the 
public is indebted for the revival, or rather second discovery 
of stereotype printing; for, in a brief account which he pub- 
lished in the Philosophical Magadne, (vol. x.) be states, in a 
manner which must convince the most sceptical, that he made 
the discover^' without knowing any thing whatever of Ged's pre- 
vious attempts. Like Ged, he was no printer himself, and was 
led solely by the force of what logicians c^ the student reasoa 
to see that founding whole plates of types was quite asprac 
ticable a thing as founding single types. He bc^an his ex" 
periments in 1761, and in 1782, having brought his plates to 
a stete of comparative perfection, flattered himself that many 
advantages would result from his successful efforts. 

As he was not bred a printer himself, he had recourse- to 
Mr. Foulis, printer of the University of Glasgow, to whcHn he 
applied for types to make an experiment in the new process : 
the experiment succeeded, and Mr, Foulis, who was a very 
ingenious man, became so convinced of its practicalulity and 
excellence, that he entered into partnership with Dr. Tilloch 
in order to carry it on. They took out patents in both Eng- 
land and Scotland, and printed several small volumes firom 
stereotype plates, the impressions of which were sold to the 
booksellers without any intimation of their being printed out 
of the coQimon way. Circumstances, however, of a private 
nature, induced them to lay aside the business for a time, and 
others supervened to prevent their ever resuming it. " At the 
time <>f the discovery," says Mr. Tilloch, with a great deal of 
philosophic candour, " I flattered myself that we were ori^oal ; 
and with those sanguine ideas which are natural to a youUg 
man, indulged the hopes cf reaping some fame at least &oin 
the discovery ; nay, I was even weak enough to feel vi&xed 
when I afterwards found that I had been anticipated by. A 
Mr. Ged of Edinburgh, who had printed books from letter^ 
press plates about fifty years before. The knowledge of this 
lact lessened the value of the discovery S9 much in my estim- 
ation, that I felt but little anxiety to be knowri as a secpnd 



inventor ; and^ but tor the peitevering attempts of others to 
deprive Ged of the &ine his memory so justly merits, and 
which he dearly earned] I might still have remained silent." 

The attempts here alluded to were made by the French, 
who are never behind-hand in claiming the merit of a new 
discovery. The art, however, being in its infancy, underwent 
rapid improvements; so that although Dr.'Hllach's patent 
remained unimpeached, it never seems to have been to him 
of any pecuniary benefit. It i^pears, nevertheless, from some 
circumstances which transpired at the Society of Arts at the 
Adelphi, some years afterwards, tliat E^rl Stanhope was in- 
debted to Dr. Tilloch for much of bb knowledge in the pro- 
cess of making stereo^^ plates. 

On returning to Glasgow, he entered into the tobacco 
business, in conjunction with bis brother and brother-in-law ; 
but not finding it answer their expectation, it was finally 
abandoned. He then turned his attention to printing, and, 
dther singly or in partnership, carried on that trade for some 
time m bis native city. 

Somewhat prior, however, to this period of his life, Or. 
Tilloch married ; but the joys of connubial felicity were not 
long his portion. In the year 1783 his amiable partner was 
taken Irom him by death, firom which time his days were 
spent in widowhood. The fruit of this union was one daugh- 
ter, who is the wife of Mr. Gait, the celebrated author of 
*' The Annals of the Parish," " Sir Andrew Wylie, of that 
Ilk," " ITie Provost," " The SpaeWife," *' Ringan GilhaJse," 
and other popular Scottish novels. 

In the year 1787 Dr. Tilloch came to the British me- 
tropolis, where he spent the remamder of his life. In 1789, 
in connection with odiers, he purchased " The Star," a daily 
evening paper, of which he immediately became the editor, 
and continued so until within four years of his death, when 
bodily infirmities, aud various engagements, compelled him 
to relinquish its managem»it altogether. In this respectable 
paper his political opinions were mild and temperate, equally 



>reincrte from the virnleoee of par^, tbe dainmais of ftctinif 
iand tlie unmanly serviUty of tempormng baseness. 

Being fisrdbly struck, soon after bis airival in Londout 
.with the vast number of executions that took phice for forgery, 
Dr. Tilloch, who was always an active philenthropiat, begap 
to devise means for the prevention of the carime ; and in 1790 
he made a proposal to the British ministry to that efiect. 
His scheme, however, meeting with an unfiivourable reception 
■at home, he offered his invention to tbe Commission d'Assig- 
JuAs at Paris, where its merits were very differently appre- 
■oUted ; but tlie political contentions of the time caused con- 
-sid^raUe delay in the negociation. However, in 1 792, 
L' Amour, from the French authorities, waited on him, and 
tbey consulted blether on the subject. On hb return to 
Paris, some French artists were employed to make c<ques t£ 
Dr. T^och's plan ; but in this they were finally unsuccessfii^ 
and their endeavours caused an additional delay. The comr 
nencement of the war in the b^inning of 1793 occasioned a 
still greater interruption ; but so anidous were the French 
Cdnunissiotiers d'Assignats to avail themselves of Dr. Ill- 
loch's invention, that L' Amour was directed to rel^se some 
English smu^lers, and to give them their vessel, on con- 
dition that, on returning to England, they would communictfe 
to Dr. Tilloch a prc^iosal for him to come to the continent, 
and inqurt his secret, oflfermg him a handsonui remuneration. 
By this time, however, the IVeasonable Correspondence BBl 
having passed into a law, he pmdentiy declined all further 
intercourse with the French authorities on the sutgect. It 
was afterwards ascertained, that some of those who had been 
active in releasing the smu^lers and giving them thra" boaiv 
very narrowly escaped the guillotine ; the &11 of Robeapteme 
alone saving their Uves. 

The practice of forgery still continuing, with unabated per- 
aeverance, in the year 1797 Dr. Tilloch presented to the 
Bank of England a specimen of a note, which, if adopted* 
he conceived would place die impressions on bank paper ber 



yond die readi of imitatioD. Of this plan, and the fitte wjiicb 
awaited it, some information may be gathered from the fol- 
lowing petition, presented to the House of Gnnm<Hi8 on the 
occasion, in the jtar 1820 ; — 

^' To the Honourable the Commons of the United Kingdcm 
of Crreat Britain and IreUnd, in Parliament assonbled. 

** The humble Petition of Alexander Tilloch, of Islington, 

" SSieweth, — That in the year 1T97 your Petitioner pre- 
sented to the Bank of England a specimen of a plan of en- 
graving, calculated to pervent the forgery of bank notes, 
accompanied with a certificate signed by Messrs. Francis 
Bartolozzi, Wilson Z^wry, Thomas Holloway, James Heath,. 
William Shtup, James FItUer, William Byrne, J. Landseer, 
James Basire, and other eminent engravers, stating each for 
himself that * they could not make a ct^y of it,' and that 
' they did not believe that it could be copied by any of the 
known arts of engraving ;* and recommending it to the notice 
of the Bank of England, as an art of great merit and inge- 
nuity, calculated not merely to detect, but to prevent the for- 
gery of bank notes. 

" That the sud specimen was executed in consequence oi 
a written permission from Mr. Giles, then Governor of the 
Bank, and on a verbal promise from him, that your peti- 
tioner should be well remunerated by the Bank if his speci- 
men could not be copied, and at all events be paid for his 
trouble and expences. 

" That the bank-engraver (then a Mr. Terry) said he could 
copy it, and in about three months thereafter did produce 
irfiat he called a cc^y, but which was, in fiict, very nnhke the 

■ *• That on the 4th of July, 1 797, the said pretended copy 
Was examined before a committee of the Bank Directors, by 
Messrs. Heath, Byrne, Sharp, Fittler, Landseer, and Lowry, 
all engravers of the first eminence, who all d^lared that tiie 

Y S 



pretended copy was not any thing like a correct resemlilance 
of the ori^nali nor even executed in the same manner, your 
PeUtioner's specimen being executed on, and printed from, a 
block in the manner of letter-press, but the copy executed 
on, and printed from, a copper-plate in the common rolling 
press ; and the said engravers signed certificates to that ef- 
fect^ and gave the same to your Petitioner ; and the other en- 
gravers, who were not at the bank when the examination was 
mad^ afterwards compared the pretended copy, and gave 
your Petitioner a certificate similar to the last-mentioned — all 
agreeing that the copy was no more like the original, thaa a 
brass counter is like a guinea. 

. " That, notwithstanding these certificates, the Bank re-, 
jected the plan offered by your Petitioner, followed their old 
plan for upwards of twenty yeu^ longer, trusting to the in- 
fliction of punishments for their protection and that of the. 
public, of tiie effects of which your Petitioner will say no- 
thing — and never paid your petitioner any remuneration for 
his expences and trouble, both of which had been consider- 

. *■ Utat on the appointment of a Royal Commission in the 
year 1818, to examine and report on the best means for the 
prevention of forgery, your Petitioner laid before the said 
Commissioners the fore-mentioned specimen, accompanied 
with another executed for the purpose, and exhibiting some 
improvement; and stated to them, tiiat not bdnga profos- 
sional artist^ these specimens (notmth standing their ceitified 
merit) could give but an imperfect idea of the perfection of 
which your Petitioner's art was susceptible. 
. " That the said Commissioners, from many specimens 
offered by different individuals, recommended the adoption of 
one offered by a Mr. Applegath. 

" That the stud plan of the said Mr. Applegath is, as your 
Petitioner has been informed, and believes, in &ct, the same 
with and differs not in the principle of execution from the 
plan ofiered by your Petitioner twenty-Uiree years ago; and 


DR. TILLOCH.' 327. 

^refbre, the preference thereto given appears to your Peti- 
tioner to tie an aot of great injustice towards him, the original' 

" That your Petitioner has seen a Bill now before your- 
bonoiirable House, entitled ' A Bill for the further Prevention, 
of Forging and Counterfeiting of Bank Notes,' in which there 
are various clauses calculated, and, as your Petitioner humbly 
submits, intended, to prevent him from exercising in any way 
diat art of which he was the ori^nal inventor ; and which, he 
humhly submits, is an act of great iEJustice. 

" Tliat to prohibit the exercise of any modes of engraving, 
on the pretext of preventing forgery, stands as much opposed, 
to the progress and improvement of the Arts, and conse- 
quently as impolitic, as it would be to prohibit die-sinking for 
medab, buttons, and many branches of metallic ornament, 
on pretext of hindering the current coin from being imitated 
and counterfeited. 

*' Your Petitioner therefore humbly submits, that the said 
Bill, containing such clauses, should not be passed into a law ; 
or, if deemed indispensable on grounds respecting which 
be may not be qualified to judge, that your Petitioner ought 
previously to receive such a remuneration as to the wisdom 
of your honouraiile House may appear reasonable; not only 
for the great tronble and expence he has already incurred, 
but for the damage and loss which your Petitioner must in- 
cur if prevented from exercising that very art of which he 
was the original inventor, and from the exercise of which 
he desisted ^l these years, only in the hope that the Bank of 
£ngland would, sooner or later, adopt it; and which they 
have done, but given the credit of it to another person, and 
consequently the remuneration and advantage arising from its 

*' Your Petitioner therefore humbly prays that his case 
may be taken into consideration, and that he may be granted 
such relief in the premises as this honourable House in its 
wisdom may deem meet. 

(Signed) " Alexander Tijjloch." 

Y t 



Oo the merits or defect of the ^lecimen of his inventive: 
[towers to which the preceding petition alludes, we are incom- 
petent to decide ; but the attestations of the eminent artist* 
whose names are inserted in the petition, cannot iajl to confer 
OQ it a chftTBCta: (^ bi^ re^>ectability> although it was not 
crowned with ultimate saccess. 

' Seeing with ragret, that tbare was but one periodical 
publication in London (Nicholson's " Philosophical Journal," 
which subsequently meif[ed into Dr. I^lloch's Magazine) in 
which the man of sdeece could embody his own discoreries, 
or become acquainted with those of odiers, Dr. T^loch pro- 
jected, and established ** The Philosc^diical Maga^ne." The 
£rst number iqjpeared in June, 1797, from whidi time to. the 
present it has continued without interruption, and with a de- 
gree of raspectalulity hi^ily creditable to the heads and hmida 
diat have conducted it During lite eariy periods of its 
existence, we apprehend that Dr. Tilloch was the sole pro^ 
l^rietor, and such he continued until about four years sinc«^ 
when the name of Richard Taylor, F.L.S. was added to his 
own as joint prc^rietor. During the whole of this long pe- 
riod, " The Philosophical Magazine" was almost esclusivdj 
under Dr. TiUocii's management, nor did be wholly relinquish 
its superintendence^ until he was compelled by those debilities 
of nature which terminated in his death. Of this work it is 
needless to descant upon the merits. Sixty-five volumes are ' 
now before the puUic Its circulation has beoi extensive, 
not only tfaroi^hout the country which gaVe it birth, but 
among the via-ious nattCHi^ of the civilized world. Its oorre- 
spaaienla, both foreign and domestic, are numerous and highly 
reqjecbdde; and it may be said to cdntun the phibsophioal 
transw^ons of the gltrfie. Among our pcdodical puUicatioiis 
it has ever m^nttuued a conspicuous rank ; and has perh^s 
eontrib^sd iaon tlian any other to give to scietitific know- 
ledge a genend xltfib^n. 

The steam-engine was another sul^eot to which Dr. TjUbch 
devoted his comprehensive mind, and we have the best reftr 
Sons far nUaiag tliM th^ ttnprovemait made on this useful and 

Dtt. TiLLDca.: sets. 

toighfy machine* which gots under tbe ntune «f Wbolf '« en-; 
gln^' wu suggested and itatnred priocipftl^ by t)ir. TiUoidi ; 
IMMT did eren ^e or stCfcoeas prevent his labouring to fendec 
the 8lebm-«ng!ne Still more odDf^te ; foi^ unong tht list of 
itew patOote, we £nd one d^ied the 11th of Janaaty 1825; 
only fifteen days before hui deatfat " To Alexander Tillodi, of 
Islington, Doctor of Laws, for bis invention or discoveiy of 
Ml tUpTOTement in the eteani>«ngtne, or in the aj^ontus cOn- 
Bocted tberew^, sod aitto appUo^Ie to odier useful pur^ 
posefi." We trust that this discovery will not be lost to the 
world, and we have aO doubt diat bis executors will exatnisA 
with grert care the papers Dr. Tilloch lus left, in the hope 
tbat some of his valuable obiervatitms and inrmtions may be 
recorded and rendered avulablei. 

Amidst these varioHS avoo^oBS and drtie^ Dr. liUocb found 
time to turn his <utoition to theological sidtjects. &i *' Hw 
Stai^" durii^ tbe early years that it was under his manage* 
meat, he published numerous essays and ^issert&tians on the 
prophedes, fiome of which were on detached points, and odiers 
in COHtinutikm of the same train of thought end aigameut. 
These compositions were aAerwtirds eoUected by a gendemUi 
in tbe North, and published ta a vdum^ under die name of 
" Biblious." The au^r never lost s^bt of them ; and it is 
bij^y probd^e, , if his life bad been prblonged, that tbe piAyr 
lie would have seen the wot^ now sustuning the name of 
Biblicus> ia a more enkcged and commant^ng form. At pre- 
sent the volume ctw.taiaing the above OoUections is exceed* 
ingly scarce. 

In tbe year 182S, Dr. TUlodi published, in one w>lntDe, 
octavo, " Dissertatiolis introductory to tbe Study and Right 
UndersUmdingof the Ldngot^gei Structure, amd Contents of the 
Apocalypse." The ^-eat desi^ of the author ^]pears to be, to 
prove that the Ajtocalypse wM written at a much eaiiier period 
than our more distinguished coimnentators suppose, and prior 
to most c^ tbe Epistles coDtti^dia tbe New Testament. Inan 
advertisement preftxed to this woric^ tbe aa^or inibrms hii 
readers, that ** about forty years have el^ued -since his atteo- 


tioB was first turned to the Revelt^tms ; and the contents of 
ttwt wonderful book have, ever since, muefa oceupiad his 
UwHights." Ib a snbseqoent parapsph (rf' the aaoe adver- 
^Kment, be thus alludes to aaother woi^ on the Apoca- 
lypse at large, which he tlieo had in hand, and v^ch included 
the dissertations that first ^^eared in the columns o( " The 
Star:" — 

' ** Persuaded that be has discovered the nature of those- 
peculisritiea in the conipositton of the Apocalypse, which have 
perplexed men of incomparably higher attainments, and have 
led to the erroneoas (pinion so generally entertained, reelect- 
ing its style, he thinks, that he but performs a duty to his 
fellow Christians, in ^ving publid^ to that discovery ; and 
(he more so, as> from the precarious state of his health, it is 
very probiUiIe that he may not live to finish a larger voorJtt 
devoted to the elucidation of the Apocalypse — with which he 
has been mw^ years occupied : but whether that work shall 
ever jee the light or not, it is ht^wd that the other topics 
coamcbed with the sul^ect mtroduced into this vtdume, may 
also prove service^le to persons engaged in the same pursuit," 
The larger nori^ to which the author alludes in the above 
quotaUon, we have learnt* fmn unquestionable anthori^, is 
eiUier finished, or in such a state of forwardness as apprcm- 
mates to completion, but whether it will ever be laid before 
the public, Ume only can determine. 

The last work, we apprehend, which Dr. lllloch ever en- 
gaged to superintend, was " The Mechanic's Oracle," now 
puUishing in numbers at the Caxton press. 

In his religious views. Dr. Tllloch was what in general 
estimation would be deemed sranewhat singular, but his opi- 
nions were generally understood to be (tf the Sandemanian 
kind. The few with whom he associated, assume no other 
name than that of Christian Dissenters. They are " slaves 
to no sect," and can scarcely be said to make an avowal of 
any theological creed. They profess to conduct themselves 
according to the directions of Scr^ture ; and for the govem- 
nKtit.of their liule body appoint two elders, who are elected 

I ., .. I, Google 

DB. TlLLOCH. 831 

to iheir tMoe, bnt who have no other ranuneradoa than the' 
Bfiectioii and respect of a grateful people. Hie qualificaticms- 
fiir ibe duties of this statbn, which Br. I^Uodi was called to 
fill, he possessed in an eminent d^ree; nor was he mbre 
liberal in dispensing the riches of his cultivated mind, and in 
expatiating (m the love (^ the Redeemer, than in imparting 
to the needy the contents of his purse. As a teacher he was 
clear and perspicuous, posses^g that char!^ which su£fereth 
long and is kind, which vaunteth not itself, is not pu^d up; 
and for these eEcellendes, as well as for his readiness to 
relieve the distressed, bis name will be Itmg rranembered with 
grateful recollection. IlieiT place of worship is a room in a 
house in Goswell-street-road, where they meet every Lord's- 
day, sing, pray, read the scripture^ and offer praise to God,- 
when one <^ the elders, or some other brother under his 
direction, g^ves an exhortation, generally from some passage 
of Scripture that has been read. The sacrament is also regu-' 
larly administered every week. Retired thus from scenes 
that might expose them to the charge of seeking pc^ularity,' 
they cultivate the practical part of Christianity without any 
parade or ostentation, and from the assistance which they 
render to their poor, they give the most conv&icing proof that 
they believe '* fiuth without works is dead." - 

Of Dr. mioch's unifimnly virtuous and amiable character 
it is scarcely possible to speak too highly. IVom the year 
1789, bis name has constantly hew before the puUic; but 
we are not aware that through this long course of thirty-six 
years, it has ever contracted a suigle stain ; and it is now too 
late for malice and calumny to prevent it from descending 
unsuUied to posterity. The following deliaeation of his cha- 
racter, is fivm the pen of a gentieman who had been person- 
ally acquainted with him for upwards of thir^ years : — 

" He was a man of powerful and cultivated intellect; of 
indefiitigable research and deep reflection; his mind was 
J<^nsonian in its strength, but not arbitrary and imperative 
in its expression. - Mild and urbane in his manner, the pig- 
mies of literature .might have plaj-cd with him, and &iicied- 

V. Otitic 


dientselves ascendant until warmed lb hu aubject, the invo4 
kmOiry action of bis si^terlor powo'S sw^t his (^>pottentB 
from the field t^ u-gumeDt. Studioas tiod dtMuertic, bis life 
was devoted to literature aad his femily; abd widiout mixiog 
much in the world, his mind wta intensely devoted to ita 
ba{)pines8 and improTcm^iti in the deT^apemeot of pfailos(>< 
phksJ priitcqiles ^d their rtistilts. He was a member of 
sererd useful Htemry bodies, and u the Society of Arts he 
took a distinguished loadi its records witnesung so many 
v^loi^lo propositions and plans, determining in practical b^ 
Befi^ which proceeded &om him. As an antiquary aad nr- 
tuoso^ he possessed taste, judgment, and industry, and has 
left behind him a valuable collectitm of ctuns, medals, manu- 
scriptst obsolete and unapie puUicaliotis, &C. We have 
seen tOaoag bis medals one, cooudered to hare been con-* 
temporary with Alexander the Greats atru^ upon occasion 
of a saciifice to Neptune; sudi was the opinion of the late 
Ttce^nxwost of Trlolty-oolleg^ the Rev. Dr. Bantft, to 
whose inopectioa the medal was aidimitted. Hiough the 
greater pert of his time was passed in the British metropcdis, 
bis aocebt was broadly nsUocol ; but within he had what 
f passeth ^tow.' Affecttooate aOd conscientious in his do* 
mestic relations, warm, generous, aud steady in his friendr 
ships, a wortht^ Or purer faeart never inhabited a human 

Another getitleoMU), who, in fcavter years, was intiaiBte 
with Dr. TUl«fib, sudtes the following observations i — 

'*' 1 know him to hare been a very ideasent and agreeidile 
coapanitH^ with a mind eolarged by a variety c£ knowledge, 
especially on sul^ts of modem science, of chemistry, and 
natural phUoist^hy. Upon these he often dwelt with peculiar 
^rdour, and with « freshness of mhid whidi disdosed the 
latere^ he feh in themes of that kind, Hk public labours, 
however, particularly the, ' PhilosophioJ Magazine,' aSoxd 
sufficient evidence in proof of the taste which had been ezx 
cited io his nied, MtS the zeal and diligence n^ich he evinced 
iu collecting evelry new &ct that could engage the public 


^aUenticHl. H« w^ a man of mora tiAn'ordtttary reading and 
kncnrledge. Erery tbii^ that -wtu singnkr at curious cimk 

■wiltitn the grasp of hU mmd. He examined uibjeots which 
many would nti^QcE, ta^ altogedwr demise. 

" About twenty years smce, foe was i)r(^)esed l^ the late 
Dr. Gardwhore, at whose eonversaxumes 1 have mef him, as a 
member of ^ Royal Sooety, but it was intimated Scuta some 
quarter ihat he w6ald be black-balled* ^oold he permt In 
the ballot. The reascm as^gned was, not hia want (^ bJen^ 
genius, sraence, or moral excellencies, but his b«ng a pro- 
prietor <^ a newEpf^>er, and the editor of a periodical public- 
atk>D. He, therefore, withdrew his name ^ tw in that soeie^, 
if (HMie rejected, there em be no admisBiwi aflerwards, though, 
if withdrawn after proposali this would not nulitate agalnA 

.his juture Section. The narrowness of thb po^oy must bs 

-obvious to every impartial mind. Had he be^i admitted fe 
member of that society, he woidd have been a very us^td 
and efficient assQcjatc, and, indeed, an bcmoor to that learned 


" He called on me about two months previous to his death, 
end not having seen him for some years, I could sciu%ely re- 
cc^nize him from the alteration in his countenance. When 
he took his &rewell, I wished him better ; but he shook his 
head very significantly, intimating that this was not to be 

For some years prior to his death. Dr. Tilloch had been 
in a declining state of health; but the intervals which his 
complaints afforded, induced his friends to entertain flattering 
hopes respecting him. The place of his abode was with his 
sister in Bamsbury-street, Islington, where, during several 
months, he was almost exclusively confined to his house. 
The qoproaches of death, however, were not alarmingly ob- 
servable, until within a few.weeks preceding his dissolution. 
It was then evident that his usefiil life was dravring to a dose. 
In this state he lingered until about three-guM'ters before one, 
on the hioming of Wednesday, January 26, 1825, when the 
weary wheels of life stood still. 


334 Oa. TILLOCH. 

From the exalted station which Dr, Tilloch sustained in 
(he nmla frf" literature, few iDdWidoals were belter known 
throughout Eusope than himself; and a? his life had been 
conapicuous, so his death exdted general sympathy. 

Dr. Tilloch was somewhat of a connoisseur ; he has 1^ a 
few good pictures ; a valuable, though not large collection of 
medals ; an excdlent lilnaiy, and several articles which ^libit 
a fine taste ; the library and medals will, we believe, be stdd 
in the course of the ^ring, and are well wc»lhy the attention 
of the puUic 

In po-son. Dr. Tillodi was rather t^ and well-propor- 
tioned ; with a fine intellectual countenance. His name wiU 
be long remembered in the scientific world, and his writings 
will eiect to his memory an imperishable monument In pri> 
.vate life he was amiable; in conversidion acute, intell^ent, 
and communicative; few persons possessed a dearer under- 
standing OT a warmer heart. His style of composition was 
rather strong than elegant, but generally apposite to the Sub- 
ject in hand, and he was never verbose. 



£leakor Anhb Fsahklin was the youngest child of 
'William and Mary Porden ; the former a naUve of Hall, the 
latter of York. 

But little is known of her &tber, Mr. Porden's eatly life. 
It is believed that his taluits for poetry and drawing were 
ihe means of introdudng him to the noUce and subsequent 
patronage of the Rev. W. Mason, the poet; a man who was 
not more disdnguisbed for his own taste and acquirements m 
the arts, than for his generous solicitude to foster geiSui 
wherever he met with it. By Mr. Mason, Mr. Porden was. 
introduced to the late Mr. James Wyatt, in whose office he 
for some dme studied the principles tofd practice of arcbt> 
lecture; and by whose recommendation he obtained the 
situation of private secretary to the late Lord SSieffield, then 
Mr. Baker Holroyd, who afterwards aj^MMnted him pay- 
master to the twenty-second regiment of Light Dragoons^ 
which we believe was rused by his lordship in the year ]770i 
-Afler the reduction of this regiment, Mr. Porden resumed 
his architectural pursuits; and vras in the first instance em- 
ployed to execute some public work by the parish of St. 
George^ Hanover>-square. He was also engaged in super- 
iatendmg the fitting up of Westminster Abbey, for the cele- 
brated commemoradon <^ Handel, in the years 1785 and 

Mr. Porden was soon after appointed by the &ther of th^ 
present Earl Grosvenor the surveyor of his extensive estates 
In London and Middlesex ; and was at all times honoured 
by much of hb lordship's kindness and attention. He was 
one of Uie invited party for a month at Eton Hall, in 1788, 


to celebrate the comii^ of age of Lord Belgrave, tfae present 
earl. The festivities on that occasion derived great brilliance 
from the wit and talents of the numerous and distinguished 
guests. Anumg the intellectual deirices that were resorted to 
for amusement was, the establishment of a Periodical P^)er, 
of which Mr. Giffiird (who, as is well known, bad been Lord 
Betgrave's tutor) was tfw editor; and which made its sp* 
pearance every morning at the break&st-tabl^ under the 
■name of " The Salt'Box;" so called from tbe cirenoostance 
of a ealt-boK being used as the most eoiiTenient rec^itacte 
lor the efiiisioDB of the various members c^ the pftr^> Mr. 
Pordea was a frequent contributor. A selection from these 
j«ux,-d'esprit was, we believei afterwards printed. Mr. Fop- 
den also took an active part iu the arrangement pf the Ea(w 

The most celebrated of Mr. Pordeo's architectural wockf 
are the royal staUes at Brighttm, which were built fiv bb 
present Majes^, when Prince of Wales ; apd EatoO HaUk the 
taagnifi«eat seat of Earl Grosv§nor» in Cheshire. He wa» 
^ man of the strictest int^ity and uprightiiess of chara<;ter t 
frequently scorning to avail bio^elf of advantages (o wb^ 
Iw was even justly entitled ; and in some initauces he was m 
consequence very ioadequat^y remuaerated &>r great e»ap- 
^i(»)8. He was £>r oumy years » member of &e laoiMaa 
iMMiety. His aflquaintanoe among our h&t artists, as well as 
funong literary and sci^tific men generally, was veiy estsBe- 
sive. He always continued in habits of the greatest friend- 
ship wUh Mr. Oifibrd; and the late Mr. Hoppner and Miv 
jSmirke wca-e two of his earliest and IDoM iotiouUe associates. 
Mr. Porden had made pointed arghitectiure Us peculiar 
study; and bad collected a gre^ ma^ of materials wi^m ibt 
subject, which it was his intention to pubUsh, had he not 
b^n cut off at an earlier period of his life than oo«ld have 
been autidpated by those who knew his general good h«aUh> 
and bis temperate habits. Two years be&fe his <k»d}* afteA 
having- been nearly fiuty years In the qg^iloymeot pf Lord 
Oresv^or's family, for the iuterests of which h$ bad alwayt 


UR8. f KANkLIN. 337 

evinced tlie utmost zeal,- he was dumissed from die care of 
Lord Grosveaor's landed propierty, in the most gudden^and 
abrupt manner; his " old age" being the only reason aa- 
sigoed for the step, although he was at the time in perfect 
possession of every foculty both of body and of mind. It was 
in vain that conscious rectitude incessantly whispered that 
his character was unimpeachable. Mr. Pordea felt the mor- 
tification nust deefty ; and it was enhanced by its occurrence 
tit a period when it was well-known that another of Lord 
Oronenor's agents had extensively defrauded him ; and wheut 
therefore, diere was reason to apprehend that the world 
m^bt su(^K>se tliat Mr. Porden was implicated in that trans- 
acticH). On the contrary, he was a fellow-sufferer with hii 
lordship ; having lent the person alluded to some hard-earned 
mon^, which, in all probability, is lost to Mr. Porden's 
Anuly for ever ; a drcumstance the more to be regretted, as 
Mr. Porden had not amassed a considerable fortune. — From 
the dK>ck which Mr. Porden's health received on this occar- 
cion he nevfx recovered ; and he died on the HthofS^>tem- 
ber, 18^, aged sixty-seven. 

Mrs. Franklin, as has been already (^served, was the 
youngest child of her parents ; who had a numerous femily ; 
till of whom, however, died/ in their infencyi except the 
eldest and the youngest; both daughtturs. The latter was 
bom in July, 1795. She very early showed great precoci^ 
of talent, combined with a most retentive memory ; and her 
acquirements were proportwnate. Her education, which was 
private^ was of a superior and rsdier unusual description. 
^¥hen only eleven years old« she had a great desire to learn 
die Greek language, but was discouraged by her dislike of 
the Latin. By the assistance of a friend, however, who was 
bet instructor, she accompli^ed her object ; was at the la- 
boor of tfiaHpg an English and Gre^ lexicon for her own 
use ; and became s very respectable Greek scholar. French 
she wrote and t^ke with great fluency and correctness ; and 
IiSitin ^e afterwards taught herself At an ewly age she 
was a subsoiber to the Royal Institution, was very regular is 

VOL. X. Z 


her altendnnce at the lectures, and was known to, and upon 
terms of friendship with, most of the professors. She used 
to take very full notes of the lectures ; and was in the habi^ 
on her return home, of writing out, from those notes, aided 
by her excellent memory, the entire lecture; so that she ac- 
cumulated a vast mass of scientific matter ; imprinted upon 
her mind a great deal of valuable information ; was a good 
geolc^ist, minerali^ist, and theoretic chemist; and, in fitct, 
with the exception of mathematical knowledge, became fa- 
miliar with almost the whole circle of science and litera- 
ture. She was also no mean draughts-woman ; although her 
eiforts that way were principally confined to making archi- 
tectural outlines for her father ; many of which were of great 
beauty. Nor did Miss Pordeu neglect those qualificatioiA 
which are more peculiarly feminine. She could ply her 
needle with great dexterity, both usefully and ornamentally ; 
and some crystals formed by the candied syrup of a pine- 
apple of her preserving were thought worthy of being intro- 
duced in a lecture by Mr. Professor Brande, at the Royal 
Institution. It is a litde singular that, although her ear was 
nicely sensible of the harmony of poetical number^ she had 
not the slightest relish for, or knowledge of, music Not only 
was she unable to distinguish one tune from another; but 
she never remarked any change in time or measure. In 
dancing, she regulated her steps by counting; any variation 
in the time, or any error in playing the tune, she was wholly 
unconscious of; and would go on with the figure, counting 
away till she reached the end of the dance; to the great 
amusement of her young friends. 

But it was by her poetical genius that Miss Pordea was 
especially distinguished. It developed itself at a very early 
age. A number of his literary and scientific friends used to 
assemble at Mr. P<H^en's house once a fortnight. The recol- 
lection of die amusement which " The Salt-Bo3^' had afforded 
At Eaton, induced Mr. Porden to establbh a similar mode df 
collecting the fugitive productions of this social partyi but 
under the name of " The Ten-Chest ;" which name, in con- 


tequtece of Lord El^'s having presented Mr. Porden with 
some of the Greek fir that formed the packages in which the 
Ei^a marbles had been brought from Athens, of which fir a 
neat little box was constructed for the purpose, was afterwards 
changed to that of *' The Attic Chest." Miss Porden was 
the editor of " ITie Tea-Oiest," and the " Attic Chest," and 
a paper consisting of the selected contributions was read by 
her at every meeting. Her own compositions, however, which 
were both of a lively and of a serious character, were the chief 
support of the society, lliose of her friends who were com- 
petent to judge of their merit, and she was so fortunate as to 
enjoy the acquaintance of many such, were delighted with the 
spirit and feeling which she displayed, and with the ease and 
el^iance of her versificatjon. 

When ^out seventeen years of age. Miss Porden wrote 
her poem called " The Veils ; or the Triumph of Constancy," 
as a contribution to " The Tea-Chest." It met with such 
^plause £com her fiiends, that she was induced to revise and 
enlarge it; and in 1815 to publish it in six cantos, with a 
dedication to Lavinia, Countess Spencer. The preface, re- 
lating the origin and explaining the nature of the poem, is as 
follows .■ — 

" A young lady, one of the members of a small society 
which meets periodically for literary amusement, lost her veil 
{by a gust of wind) as she was gatbo-ing sliells on the coast 
of Norfolk. This incident gave rise to the following poem, 
which was originally written in short cantos, and afletwards 
extended and modelled into the form in which it is now re- 
spectfully submitted to the public. The author, who con- 
siders herself a pupil of the Royal Institution, being at that 
time attendii^ the lectures ^ven in Albemarle-street, on 
chemistryj geology, natural history, and botany, by Sir Hum- 
phry Davy, Mr. Brande, Dr. Rogel, Sir James Edward Smith, 
acd other eminent men, she was induced to combine these 
subjects with her story ; and though ho- knowledge of them 
was in a great nMa^ure orally acquired, and therefore canjiot 
pretoid to be extensive or profound, yet, as it was derived 


from the best tenchen, she Ik^ws it wilt addom be (bond 

** The nutchinery is fbunded on the Rosicrusian doctrine 
which peopks each of the four elements wtlii b pecaliar clan 
of spirits, a system introduced into poetry by Pope, and since 
used by Darwin, in ** The Botanic Ofu-den;" but die author 
believes that tite Ideal beings of these two distinguished writers 
will not be found to ditkr mcftB Irom each other, than fixmt 
those called into action in the ensuing poem. She has tiiere 
endeavoured to show them as representing Uie different 
enet^ies of nature, ex«-ted in produdng the various changes 
that take place in the physical world ; but the plan of her 
poem did not permit her to exh%it them to any considerable 
extent. On the Rosicrusian mythology, a system of poetic^ 
niadiinery nngfat be consbucted of the highest ^matter i but 
the person who directs its operations should possess tiie 
Bcient^ knowledge of £Sr Humphry Davy, tmii the energy 
and imagination of Lord Byron and Mr. Scott 

" In peraottiiying the metals and minerals, and the ageiM^ 
<of fire^ thi mitiior has generally taken her niones [i<om the 
Greek language ; but as it was impossible to avoid the no- 
menclature of modern chembtry, she requests, on the jAea of 
necesnty, the indulgence of her readers tat what die fears will 
be felt as a barbarous mixbu^." 

This extraordinary work possesses a comlHnftti<»i of scien- 
tific knowledge and poetical beauty, which, we b^eve, is 
entirely unparalleled. Miss Porden operated upon her ap- 
parentiy stubborn, and sometimes even r^nlsive materials, 
with e masterly band ; and proved that the most nnprominng 
topics of dry, expa^mental &ct, pasnng throogh a mind of 
tHste and feeling, become susceptible of reCMving all the grace- 
-fet decoratioa which woold seem to be peculiar to subjects of 
finre imaginati<m and fiincy. 

lliree years afterwards iq>peared an interesting Ktle poeti- 
ticbl tribute, nnd«* the name of ** The Arctic Expeditkrat" to 
the gallant adventurers v4io were engaged in one of the most 
perilous Miterprizes by which the present age has been dis- 


Anguished. The subject had long been a &vourite one with 
Miss Forden ; but the immediate poem in question was sug- 
gested by a visit to the Isabella and Alexander, di»coTery 
ships ; and tliis circumstwice led fo the acquaintance with 
Captain Franklin, which terminated in marriage. 

Another e0ufiioD of Miss Pord«i's muse was " An Ode on 
the CoronaUon of His Most Gracious Majesty George the 
Fourth, in July 1821 ;" the circulation of which we believfi 
was rather private, lliis Ode, and another which Miss For- 
den addressed to Lord Belgrave upon his marriage with a 
daughter of Uie house of Stafford, show the extensive ac- 
quaintance which she possessed with the early history of faer 
own country, as well as her judgment in the application of her 

But Miss Porden's grand work, " Coeur de Lion ; or the 
Third Crusade;" a poem, in sixteen books ; and which is ceiV 
tainly one <^ the greatest dibits <^ a female pen in the annala 
of Engli^ literature, was published in 1 82£. It is dedicated* 
by permission, to His Mqesty; a distincljott which it richly 
deserves, lite sul^ect, as was justly observed in the " literary 
Gaaette," is certainly one of uncoounon interest, and one also 
which o^rs every fiicility for the disfday of poetical powers. 
Religion, love, war, chivalry, romance superstition, Orientd 
spl^idour, and European adventure; the camp, the ocean, 
scenery the most diversiBed, and passions the most varied, all 
combine into <Hie grand whole, and demand the noblest soar- 
ings of the muse. But Miss Forden has herself described 
both the attractims and the difficulties of her undertaking, in 
the following Preface, which also bri^y narrates the chief 
occurrences that were the precursors of the action of the 

" Hie greatness of an enterprize, while it increases the dif- 
fidence of an author, dmost destroys the right of apology. I^ 
in attempting to cel^rate the heroic achievements of Richard 
Coeur de Lion in Palestine, and the events of the Third 
Crusade, I have ventured beyond my strength, I can only say 
that my fancy was captivated by the chivahxNis and romantic 
z 3 



spirit which breathes from every page of their history ; and 
Uiat in the wish to see them poetically treated, I forgot my 
own deficiences, and ahio that much of the necessary inform- 
ation was to be derived from sources abnost inaccessible to a 

" The character of Richard has, I think, been a little nn- 
birly delineated ; and especially aa respects his engagements 
in the Holy War. It is absurd to try the justice or the pru- 
dence of the crusades by the feelings and opinions c^ the 
nineteenth century, and it is almost impossible to estimate 
what were or were not the advantages which Europe ultimatdy 
derived from its consequent intercourse with Asia. Every 
page of our old chronicles bears record of the darkness and 
ignorance which then envelc^ed even the most civilized natjoos 
of the West. Fanaticism and valour were the ruling spirits of 
the middle ages; and while we deplore the myriads of human 
victims th^ were sacrificed" for the temporary possession of a 
narrow territory in Asia, we ought to remember that many of 
them would otherwise have fallen in feudal and intestine war ; 
and that when the sword of bigotry reposed ibr a moment 
from the task of exterminating the followers of Mahommed, it 
was never without an object of persecution among the heretics 
of Europe. If Richard drained his kingdom of its bravest 
warriors and richest treasures to lose them both in Palestine, 
in a contest which advantaged ndther himself nor his realm, 
we must not forget that It was for the attainment of all which 
was then believed most precious ; in obedience to an authority 
which he was taught to consider inMlible, and to the stilt 
stronger voice of universal enthusiasm, which pointed out the 
pilgrimage to Palestine as the atonement for the greatest 
crimes ; the certain path of salvation. The bravest princes of 
Christendom were his comrades and his rivals ; and had he 
only remmned in Europe, his contemporaries would not have 
applauded his prudence, but have reproached him as a coward, 
and as a traitor to his honour and hb God. He has been 
accused of showing more of the brutal courage of a soldier 
than the skill of a leader ; but personal prowess was then 



esteemed as-the noblest quality of a bero; and in tliat Richard 
excelled not only bis companions, valiant as they were, but 
almost all the genuine warriors of antient days, and tbe 
Paladins of romance. It was not till aller tbe departure of 
Pbilip Augustus from Acre, that Kichard became tbe leader 
of tbe Crusaders ; and even then each independant chieftain 
arrayed his followers with more regard to bis own interest 
and glory than to the common good ; yet the march to Arsou^ 
and the batde of Jaffa, are evidences that he both possessed 
and could exert tbe talents of a general; and the brief period 
of bis stay in Palestine Is almost the only page of tbe crusades 
which can be read without horror, as it is the only one n^iich 
b free from distresses and disasters of the most dreadful kind* 
and brought on by tbe most childish want of forethought and 

" With regard to his personal character, there are but two 
of the leaders of tbe crusades that wilt bear the tost of time ; 
Godfrey of Bouillon, wlio was equally exemplary as a 
private soldier, a general, a monarch, and a Christian; and 
Tancred, the perfect model of chivalry. Hume, in his His- 
tory of England, has stigmatized Richard as a bad son, a bad 
husband, and a bad king; but let us compare biro with his 
contemporaries. Tbe stains of rebellion, of r^Micity, perfidy, 
and cruelty, are strong upon tbe names of bis brother John, 
of Alpbonso of Arragon, of Leopold of Austria, and Henry 
the sixth of Germany. While we condemn his rebellion to 
his father, let us not forget bis provocation and bis repentance ; 
as a husband, bb history is at least unstained by the cold and 
inexplicable cruelty with which Philip Augustus treated, for a 
number of years, the most beautiful and accomplished princess 
of her time ; and if tbe indulgence of bis martial genius im- 
poverished his subjects, it endeared him to their hearts, and 
made the name of Cceur de Lion tbe pride of England, and 
tbe terror of Asia. A blind admiration of the great of former 
ages, has been so often ridiculed, that we are now apt to. run 
into an opposite extreme ; they are like the fossil plants which 
we sometimes discover far beneath the sur&ce; we know that 
z ♦ 



o«r st»l and atmosphere would not now support them, yet 
they once flourished there in t^propriate use and beauty. 

" IVanoe was the cradle of die crusades ; and we have, till 
Tery lately, left it to the French to write their Wstory. It ha» 
been remained, tliat the monaidis of Fnuice and England 
never fought together in one cause, except at the siege of 
Acre ; and though the martial achievements and megnificenee 
of Richard be more congenial with tlie general taste of our 
Gallic neighbours, than the cool calculating policy of I%ilip 
Augustus, is cannot be matter of surprize that this eircum- 
stance should have peculiarly excited the feelings of oationdl 
rivalry, to deepen the darker shades of his character, and to 
pass lightly over many traits of generosity and magnanimi^. 
The jefdousy of his comrades occasioned the crusade to fiiil in 
its principal ot^eet of the re-estabHshment of the kingdom of 
Jerusalem, and their treachery rendered it a source of misery 
and civil conflict to England ; but I cannot help thinking, that 
had a longer life been permitted to him, he would have 
triumphed over his enemies, consolidated his power, and in 
^ maturity of years and reflection, would have become one 
of the greatest monarchs m our annals. 

** The Latin kingdom of Jerusalem miuntaiaed itself not 
cpiite one hundred years. Of the multitudes that accompamed 
Godfrey, few contemplated a permanent expatriation ; and 
when tJie object of their pilgrimage was accomplished in die 
redemption of the sepulchre, they returned to Europe, leaving 
him to defend it with very inadequMe force. Yet the single 
year of his reign was a course of victory; and the codeof lavrs- 
whieh he caused to be compiled, has been considered as the 
best example of feudal jurisprudence. On his death, his 
brotiier B^dwin was called from &e prindpaUty of Edessa b> 
the vacant throne; and though the territory which he quitted 
was richer and more extensive than his new dombnons, these 
were advantages- aot to be compared with the glory of reign- 
ing over the Holy City, and he cheerfully resigned hi» 
conquest into the hand of his cousin, Baldwin du Bourg. 

** The avarice and amfution of the first Baldwm, had been 


MRS. prahklin: 3if5 

ft source of ooostant dissention among the Crusaders, and 
retarded the completion of their enterprise ; but from the 
time of his accession, the brother of Godirey proved himself 
not unworthy of his r^atiooship. During a reign of eighteen 
years, with forces that seemed scarcely sufficient for die 
defence of his Httle state, he made it formidable to the Sa* 
Tacene of Syria and JBgypt, and increased it to an extent 
which his succrasors were unequal to maintain. He died 
childless, and Jerusalem again lo<&ed to Edessa for a ruler ; 
while Baldwin du Bourg was succeeded in the principalis by 
his cousin, Josceline de Courtenay. 

*' Tlie new king spent nearly the two first years of hit 
r^gn in capdvity among the infidels ; but the honour of his 
Uogdom was maintained by his vassals ; and with the assist* 
ance of the Venetians, he afterwards captured the important 
aty of Tyre. As he had no s<hi, he determined to choose 
&m<Aig the nobles of Eun^ a husband for his daughter 
Melesinda, and an heir to bis crown. His choice foil upon 
Fulk, Count of Anjou ; the fother, by a former w^ of the 
House of Hantagen^ and who had already distinguuhed 
himself in a pilgrimage to Palestine. Fulk accepted the in- 
vitation of Baldwin, who expired after a reign of twelve years ; 
and in him bis sul]gects wept over the last of the companions 
of Godfrey, in whom they could find no fault, but that he wa« 
more of a sunt than a hero. About this time arose the 
Knights Hospitallers, or Knights of St John, imd the Kni^ts 
Templars, afterwards the strongest defence of Jerusalem. 
But the power of the Christians was already beginning to 
decline ; the vutues of Fulk were esteemed, but his Acuities 
were enfeebled by age, and he Idi hb sceptre to a minor. 

" The kingdom had hitherto sub^sted through the weak* 
ness and disunion of the Saracens ; they were now beginning 
to be united under formidable leaders ; and in the reign <^ 
the third Baldwin, Edessa was torn from the d^enerate heir 
of Josceline de Conrtenay, by Zenghi, or Sangnin, Sultan of 
Aleppo, and his son, the celebrated Noureddin. Hie news' 
of this disaster revived the enthusiasAi cS the West Hie 



Emperor, Conrad III. of Germany, and Louis VII. of 
France, accoitipanied by his wife Eleanor, of Guyenne (after- 
wards married to Henry II. of England, and mother of 
Richard and John), led a force of seven hundred thousand 
warriors to the Holy Land. More than two thirds of this 
immense armament perished through the ignorance and dis- 
obedience of its chieftains, the treachery of the Greeks, and 
the hostility of the Turkish Sultans of Iconium. The remnant 
besi^ed Damascus, but their valour was rendered vain by 
the jealousy of the Syriac Christians ; and the second crusade 
was without one glorious action to atone for the appalling 
waste of human blood, or to vindicate the promises and ex- 
hortations of Sl Bernard, which had tempted such multitudes 
from the bosom of their &milies. Soon after, in the midst of 
a succession of victoiy, Baldwin III. died by poison, and was 
succeeded by his brother Amalric. A brave soldier, but an 
iai{»iident king, he often purchased peace from the Saracens 
by the cession of some of the strongest bulwarks of his do- 
minions ; and then as foolishly violated the treaty bought so 
dear, whenever the arrival of a few stra^ling pilgrims frOm 
Europe held out the hope of obtaining some trifling advanta^ 
He suffered himself to be involved in the domestic broils of 
I^pt, and afterwards sacrificed the interests of his kingdom 
to the chimerical hope of conquering that rich country. 

" The wars of Egypt were, indeed, fatal to Jerusalem, 
for it was in them that Saladine first learnt the duties of a 
soldier; and it is remarkable that Noureddin with dif- 
ficulty compelled into the path of military renown the 
man, who was shortly after to pluck the sceptre irom the 
hands of his son, and to become one of the greatest roonarchs 
of the East At his first campwgn the unambitious son of 
Ayoub TeluctanUy quitted the pleasures of Damascus, and 
the toils and perils of war were so little to his taste, that 
even the distinction which he acquired by the successfiil 
defence of Alexandria could not vanquish his disgust ; and 
when the Sultan again ordered him to the banks of the Nile, 
he went, according to his own cmifession* with (he despair 



of a man <xmdueted to death. But after he had once fairly 
tasted the cup of glory his thirst became insatiable. The 
desire of empire and the triumph of the Koran annihilated 
every other passitm, and the voluptuoijs youth became 
remarkable for the simplici^ and even austeri^ of his life. 
His religious feeUngs were gratified by the dep(»ition of the 
heretic Caliph of Cairo, and the restoration of Egypt to the 
orthodox faith of Islam. During the life of Nonreddin, 
Saladine was contented to govern in his name ; but at his 
death he ridsed the standard of revolt won province after 
province from his children and his emirs, and then advanced 
to subdue Jerusalem, a city almost equally sacred in the eyes 
of a Moslem and a Christian. Gibbon has remarked that 
the successes of Saladine were prepared by the circumstances 
of the times, and that he was seldom victorious when 
o|^M)Ged by equal forces. It is also worthy of observation 
that he was unable to sustain the frowns of fortune. Hie 
loss of a battle or a friend sunk him into a state of .despon- 
dency, from which he was to be roused only by the remem- 
brance that, according to the doctrine of bis prophet, all 
was predestined, and that it was impious to murmiu* at the 
will of Alia. His character has derived a singular colouring 
fix>m the mixture of severe devotion to a bigoted and cruel 
feith, with the feelings of a heart unusually generous and 

" Jerusalem was a victim ready for sacrifice : Amalrtc left 
his crown to his son, a leper and a ehUd, who died just as 
he was beginning to show that he possessed talents worthy 
of dominion. His infant nephew survived him but a few 
months, and the kingdom, weakened by intestine broils 
and exposed to a powerfiil enemy, remained in the insuf- 
ficient hands of his sbter Sybilla, and her husband Guy de 
Lusignan, who had not even the prudence to conciliate those 
whom he pretended to govern, or the good faith to observe a 
treaty with Saladine which might have delayed for a few 
years the ruin of his power. He lost his army and his 
liberty at the battie of Tiberias ; and Jerusalem, after a short 



resistaace, submitted to the &>1dan. The circuinstaiices 
of its capitulation, uid bis generosity to the ocnqaered, are 
detailed in tiie notes to th^ poem, Tyte was .soon the only 
city of Falestioe which remained to- 1^ Christians, and it 
was saved from sharing the fate a( the rest by the (q)por- 
tune arrival of Conrad of Mon^rrat, wJtfa a few brave 

" In the mean time the loss of the Holy City spread 
dismay in Europe. Some years previous, the I^itriarch 
Heraclius bad endeavoured to stimulate the potentates of 
France and England by the recital of its dangers ; but the 
misfortunes of the second crusade were not then forgotten, 
and his intemperate harangues and infamous character were 
injurious to his cause. The venerable Archbishop of Tjrre 
was more successful ; and when he related the sad events 
of which he was afterwards to write the histoiy, the brave 
and pious w^t at the idea of the Saracens' trampling on (he 
tomb of their Redeaner. Philip Augustus and Richard 
sheathed on the 6eld of battle the swords which were dravm 
for mubi^ wai-&re, end vied with the Emperor Frederie 
Barbarossa in their preparations for its rescue. Myriads 
hastened to take the cross, and to defray the expence of their 
equipment, the memorable tax of the Dixme Saladine, or the 
tenth part of their rents and moveables, was imposed cm aH 
who remained behind. In the meanwhile the Soldan had 
released Lusignan irom captivity, and as the hatred of 
Conrad had caused the gates of Tyre to be shut against 
liim, be collected the few friends which still remained to him, 
and began the siege of Acre. Saladine advanced to its 
relief; successive bands of Christians, whose less splendid 
Jireparations had enabled tliem to outstrip the three great 
monarchs of Europe, arrived to reinforce the army of Lu> 
signan, while that of the Soldan was continually recruited 
from Egypt, Damascus, and Aleppo, and the siege ^ad 
continued nearly three years at the time when the poem 

« In this brief abstract I have merely attempted to recaU 



to the memcffy <^ the reader a few of the- prihcipAl evoits 
which preceded die action of the poem. The recent pnb- 
li^tion of Mr. Milli's ' History of the CnKades,' has ren- 
dered more minnteness unnecessary. It is needless to say, 
that in a poem, much of fiction is necessarily blended ; but 
i^ere I have drawn from histoiyi I have endeevoured to 
be correct. For one gmt anachronism I most throw myself 
on die mercy of the critic, bnt it seemed to me otherwise 
impoasiUe to preserve any unity of story without omitting 
the mofit romantic part of Richard's life. 

" It only remains for me to express my diaidu to those 
fHends who have assisted my labours. To i/tr. OiffcHdi for 
the beoefit which I have derived from his friendly criticism ; 
arid to Mr. D'lsmdi, and Messrs. Longman and Rees, for 
ihe loan of many r^uable books." 

Of the poem itself, which extendi to neariy fourteen 
thousand lines, we would wiihngly give a q>ecimai ; bot a 
shnt one would be insufBcient to exhibit its merits, and our 
Umits will not permit a long quotation. Altbou^ there are, 
pertiaps, passages in the work, which, had the &ir author 
lived to snperintcnd a secoud edition, she might have cor- 
rected and perished, it is a poem abounding witli beauty, 
both of descriptiiMi and of imagery ; and the versifieatiDn is 
dirougbont exceedingly smooth and harmonious. Ilie 
shorter and more stimulating productions which ate the taste 
(rf'tlie present di^, havel&herto defl-auded "Cceur deLion" 
ef Btxh of die &me diat is its due ; Ixit we have no doidit 
diat postm^y will do wnple justice to Mas Porden, and will 
fdace her in die high rank to iriiich she is entitled. The 
notes to the Poem are exoeediii^y ot^iu and intcaroting; 
flnd Aaw the umrearied research vAmh must have preceded 
itB oon^Eotion. Miss Porden was, in het, at the pains of 
Ming eeveral volumes with extracts in mannaeript irom the 
old Monkish hista-iam, in order to prepsire herself for the 
task which she had luidertaken ;«-a Idoour, both in nature 
and CKtenC, probably much more arduous than was ever 
before actneved by a female. 



Miss Porden visited the continoit fbnr times with ber 
&ther, whom she greatly assisted in his architectural studies 
and iDquiries. On one of those occasions (hi the year 1818) 
they went as Jar as Lausanne and Berne, and purposed pro- 
ceeding to the north of Italy ; but indispositkHi on the part of 
Mr. Porden prevented the intention Grata being carried into 
efl&ct. While at Paris, Miss Porden addressed a letter to 
Baron Cuvier, on some scientific subject, which drew npoa 
her the honour of a particular notice &om the French Institute. 
Of the Royal Society of Literature in London she was, sooa 
aRei its formation, elected a member. 

Miss Porden suffered very much from hoopii^cot^ 
at five or six years of age ; and from that period had been 
always subject to a congh and great shortness of breath; 
both of which were probably increased by reading aloud for 
many hours diuly to her mother, (who was unable to see suf- 
ficiently for the purpose of amusing herself) and fr^uendy to 
ha* &ther, and those who instructed her. Her cou^ became 
much worse in 1822, during some trjdng scenes abroad with 
her &tber, whom she brought in a dying state from Paris. 
Not long after she ruptured a blood-vessel upon the lungs, 
which threatened her for many weeks with loss of life. 

Captain Franklin returned frmn his expedition soon after 
Mr. Porden's deirili. Miss Porden's illness delayed their mar- 
riage ; but it took place in August, 1S2S. 

A circumstance which occurred just before their union 
places the character of the amiable subject of this memoir in 
so elevated a point of view, and affi>rds so admirable an example 
to her -sex, that we cannot pass it unnoticed. C^. Pranklii^ 
with the manly and honourable candour which belongs to his 
profession, was observing to her that bis country had an un- 
doubted ri^t to his services v4ule he was capable of rendering 
them ; and, therefor^ that she must not be annoyed or mor^ 
tified at hb occasional absence: " I am an En^hwoman !" 
was the noble and comprehensive answer. 

Li June, 1824, Mrs. Franklin gave birth to a daughter; 
and it was for some time hoped that her constitution would 

MRS. FRANKLltf. 351 

rally, and her he^th be restored; but these flattering ex- 
pectations were soon destroyed. It has been said that the 
agitation occasioned by the preparations for the departure of 
Captain |^Franklin on bis second expedition accelerated her 
death ; but that was by no means the case. On the contrary, ever 
eager herself in the pursuit of knowledge, she entered fully 
into the enterprising spirit of her husband ; and, notwithstand- 
ing the UQprecedentedly severe hardships and dangers to 
which Captain Franklin had been exposed in his flrst expedi- 
tion, she was jumous that he should have an opportunity of 
repeating the attempt, in the hope that the great object in view 
might yet be accomplished. The pulmonary complaint, how- 
ever, &(Hn which she had so long suffered, rapidly gained 
ground ; and it became evident that no human power could 
save her. She was given over by her physicians five days 
before that fixed for Captain Franklin's d^tartore. ABer 
joining with him and with her femily in receiving the sacra- 
ment, and afler taking an afflicting farewell of all, she awaited 
in resignation the fiat of her Maker. It was, perhaps, an 
alleviating circumstance, that as the service on which Captam 
Franklin was ordered was of a nature that would not admit 
of delay, her life was spared until after his departure ; thereby 
enabling him to set forward with the hope, however &iot, 
which her still being in existence would allow him to entertain. 
She, on her part, survived to know that he had sailed firom 
England ; and then tranquilly breathed her lasl^ on the night 
of the 22d of February, 1825. 

We understand that it is intended, in the course of a short '- 
time, to print a small volume of Mrs. Franklin's minor poems. 

Nearly the whole of the materials for the foregoing littie 
memoir were kindly furnished to us by one of Mrs. Franklin's 
oldest and most valued &iends. 



We have been also'&voured with the following interesting 
specimens oif the posthumous poems to which we have alluded. 

" ZJttes mitten on the Plat/brm at Berne, October 1813. 

•■ The noble dty of Berne, the capital of Switicriaiid, b built npmi m high 
peidmula. formed by dtemer Atr. Tbe Jiatfartn it b public wilk, iluded with 
tnes,byttewle«f its fiuecMbedral, and lilt TiewdNncebaMgntteent. Ondia 
Id^ Ibe Ihhugi of lbs patridaoi croim the tauthetn ridge of the penintnlti hill 
abme-mentioned, with thrar gardem Billing in teiracea to jthe bank of tbe mer. 
Tbe At ii a biosd and beautiful gtreain, nearly as blue aa the Rhone ; and ttie 
gl«eti luUs OQ iti farther dda fbnn a delightful brBgrauud to the whole chain of tbt 
Bemaae Alp^ glittering in eternal snow, and deling at once the pen and (Ik 
pencil |0 gin an idea of Ibeir magnitude and beauty ; but as they are at a great 
^Mamx, a itroag light ia required to reader diem ndble. Hw iky Ina^ ba un- 
clouded at Beme, and yet the milt may hang upon the niountsins, and a sbangCT 
mi^ be uDConicious of tlieir existence : nay, Hiey may be this mcanent glittering 
Intbemo, and Ave minntta after swept 001 of the picture. Tin light of the nraoa 

" Thrke days of checquer'd smileB and tears, 
Such changeful cheer as autumn wears, 
Still hare I sought this spot, to gaze 
Oa jon rich work of Gothic days ; 
That proud cathedral, perfect Mill, 
Or fiitrer yet, this noble hill, 
Whose ridge pBtzician mansions crown ; 
And terraced gardens, sloping down. 
Where, murmurmg in its rapid flow, 
Bread winds the clear blue Aar below; 
Nor deemed I aught might hence be seen 
Beyond that swelliag slope (rf* green, 
That on its farther bank aspired ; 
Nor more the ravish'd seme required : 
But now — what vision mocks my sight P 
Those summits of eternal white. 
More than the eye may count, around 
Stretch'd to th' horizon's farthest bound I 
See him,* whose fine and pointed hom 
Rises to meet the earliest mem, 

> 'n»nniter-Au-Hom,tliehighiftctfthe Bemeie Alpt,mMTfcaUytleiidef 
1 pmnted, and fbrnnng tbe euttn peak of ■ noble group. 



And bask in day, while deepest night 
Still blackens each Burrounding height; 
And she * whose glittering dells are known 
To sprites of middle air alone, 
The Virgin, on whose frozen breast 
A shadowy eagle loves to rest, 
And spreads his mighty pinions dun. 
To shield her from the amorous sun ; 
When, at the lingering beam be throws, 
She blilshes thro' her waste of snowS) 
And all her brother Alps around 
Are with a roseate glory crown'd. 
All save the Sbreckhorn's * dreadful peak. 
For ever black, and bare, and bleak; 
For not a sprite that comes to throw 
The soft and velvet veil of snow 
That dresses other heights, will dare 
To plant his venc'rous footsteps there. 

" Ye mountiuns ! have your peaks sublime 
Scom'd all the wasting power of Time, 
Unchang'd since first the world began 
'Mid all the changing fates of man ! 
Eagles of Austria, Rome, and Gaul, 
Stoop, for these heights have mock'd you all — 
Ye thought these realms an easy spoil ; 
They foil'd you, and shall ever foil. 
For Freedom loves her flag to rear 
Where hills are proud, and streams are clear ; 
And who that knows these velvet vales, 
These pine-clad steeps, these healthful gales. 
These glittering peaks, to conqueror's hand 
Will ever yield the lovely land ? 

*' Helvetia! trust the prophet-prayers 
A sister-spirit breathes and shares ; 

* "Hie JuDgTrsu, or' Virgin'i Ham, so called From the belief that ils sleep udes 
rendered it iosccea^ble. it wta, however, twice ascended a few jetn since bj 
two German gentlemen of the name of Meyer, who, on their second visit, left a 
flog upon its summit. Hiese lines allude to adeep aod eilenuve shadow, Ibrowa 
on the Jungfrau at sunset, hj its westa^ peak, ithich is called the Silver-Horn. 
TUi sliadow (to some eyes at least) has much the farm of an eagle. 

t The Shreck-Harn, or Peak of Terror, which in this view appears iniulat«d, 
*nd almost pframidical. It ia so steep that the snow will Dot rest on its iiun- 
tnit ; and is believed to be completely Inacces^le.- 
VOL. X. A A 



Albion, thou^ diMant, still allied 
In kindi^ leeliogB, kindred pride t 
Where windsr beaeath the solar course 
Blow with unerring, diangelew force. 
The slave may tewc a tjraat's nod, 
l^e humble soul jaay kiss the rod ; 
But here, our sfHrits more sublime, 

Are like our seasons, unconfin'd ; 
There's f^our m the changing clime, 

And Freedom breathes in every wind." 

lUe Wren .• A Manx Legend. 


What is that sound so sofit and sweet. 
That like a seraph's music pours? 

Ko echo can those tones repeat, 
It dies aloDg these rocky shores. 

And what that form of beauteous mould. 
So light it seems of woven air. 
While flinging odours rich and rare. 

From clustering locks of elfin gold? 
When shines the moon with placid beam 
Amid her rays those ringlets stream. 

That form, those eyes of azure light, 
That fairy harp of witching tone. 
To garish day are never known, 

But ope, like modest flowers of night. 
When all his ruddy beams are gone. 

And many a knight, of valour prov'd. 
Had heard that harp's enchanting spell. 

Had seen that fairy form, and lov'dj 
And long pursued o'er heath and delJ; 

As still the lovely sorceress led 
Had follow'd to the murky cave, 
Had i^ung'd amid the roaring wave 

That clos'd in darkness o'er his head! 
Aad see, she bids the moon-beam rest 
More softly on her snowy breasti 


uRfk FRAma.m. $S^ 

And as she haAtu in sftrer ligfcl, 

Sbe wakes a puFM", htftier strain, 

For lo ! « Tiotim eomes agaia, 
And well she Imews the danDtless keigbt- 

A pfincdjF gtune, not* ligh^ BlaJm 

Yet CBoe hs not in knishtly pride; 

His Qobl« steed, his squkes dinputg 
His leariied hound is by his side„ 

His hooded falcon on his writt. 
He gaz'd not on those witching channs, 

Yet if a cautious glance he stole 

Sir Gawaine's was no icy soul. 
His kindling frame her beauty warms, 

Tet in the blue of that soft eye, 

A frozen coldness seemed to He, 
And he who nearer look'd might trace 

Te&rs gathering ihere that scOm'^d to flow, 

Young anger in that heighten'd g1oitr> 
Or see that more than mortal face 

Pale with the throb of inward woe. 

Again sbe tun'd her fyre, agtia 
Awoku its most resistleBS trae t 

But lo ! she hsara an answeriKg stvain^ 
Less sweet, but loftier thaa her own ; 

As Gawaine tunes the vocal reed. 
Her lyre drops useless from her hands, 
Vanquish'd and sad awhile she standst 

ThcD bounds away wilH arrowy speed. 
But never conquer'd in Ae race> 
Sir Gawaine urg'd no ttuitless chace; 

He sdz'd her by her flowibg hair ; 
He casts her on the rUgged heath, 
He draws his folchion from its sheath, 

Y/hile pointed at her bosom bare 
The lifted weapon threatens death, 

It falls — but on no female breast — 

Dilated was that phantom fair. 
And now, in glittering armour drest, 

A Knight Etands steraly frowning Awe; 

A A 2 


990 MBS. FRANKLIir. 

And Gawaine's unpolluted aword, 
That wept to sh«d a woman's blood, . 
Koff luds its master's kindling naoodi 

And thirsts to quell that form abhorr'd. 

' Fierce was the combat, and at length 
Each panting own'd their foiling strength. 

Though parrying stilt each adverse blow : 
But Gawaine summon'd all his might, 
Resolv'd at once to end the fight. 

He struck — but blood refus'd to Sow, 
Though wounded sunk the elfin knight. 

He sunk, but soon a nimble Deer, 
Rose where the warrior seem'd to dici 

And launching forth in full career. 
Oft toBt his crested head on high. 

One instant fixed in new surprize, 

Soon Gawaine's hand the leash unbound, 
Forth springs his keen, his matchless hound. 

And on the fainting stag he fiies — 
Again his prey has vanish'd there, 
An Eagle wing'd the middle air, 

And Boar'd so boldly and so high. 
It seem'd he Sew to meet the sun, 
Whose ruddy beams e'en now begun 

To purple o'er the dark blue sky. 

And clouds that veiled the mountains dun. 


But Gawaine's falcon swifler flies, 
VoT fears to grapple with his king, 

In vain with anger-beaming eyes. 

And mighty beak, and flappmg wing. 

And dreadful cries he threate his foe. 
His wing th' intrepid falcon tore, 
He falb, the king of air no more. 

Yet scarcely touch'd the ground below. 
Ere all his spreading plumes were gone:-— 
Forth flew a little Wren alone, 

Scarce seen amid the brightening sky; 
But on a fir-tree's painted height 
She perches, half conceal'd from sight, 

And human voice and words surprize 
From that small Jrame the listening knight. 


*' Desist ! yon riatng orb of gold 
At once thy power and mine controU'd. 
For secret crimes in fairy-Iaod 
CoDdemn'd to roam this barren strand; 
Alone, for many a weary year, 
My joyless steps have linger'd here. 
One only pleasure glads my mind,— 
To work tlie woe of human kind. 
And lead to death or endless shame 
The race thro' which my sorrow came. 
Thou ! thou alone, hast foil'd my wiles, 
Thou only scora'd my fatal smiles,, 
Compell'd in borrow'd shapes to &ee, — 
• My endless hatred waits on thee. 

" Lov'd by your sovereign, heap'd with wealth) 
With fame and fortune, youth, and health, 
While England's fairest maidens, all 
Contend thy hand to lead the ball. 
List thy solt converse, and decline 
All coarser flattery than thine, 
Unconquer'd still by mortal wight 
In tourney or in fiercest fight. 
Thine shall be still a joyless heart. 
That shares no bliss ihj words impart ; 
. The smiles on that gay brow that glow, 
Shall never gild the void below, 
Till one of fairy race shall join 
Her fate by marriage bonds with thine*^ 
Then must my power, my curse expire, 
For Fate controls my deathless ire. 

" For me, — I know my fate — to die 
6y thine accursed progeny. 
11118 day that saw me vanquish'd lie. 
Must every year behold agen, 
On these bleak shores, the fiury wren, 
While hundreds stiour each barren heath 
To work one helpless creature's death. f 
Woe to the fate-devoted bird, 
Whose cry that luckless mom is heard, 

^ Alluding to the old fiurf tale of Sit Gawaine's Marriage. 

f Tbe di>« of the wren ii still pursued in the Isle of Man an the tiaa.\ellUj 
toT the da; when the fairy i* supposed to have taken refuge in tiiat fwnli ind nVM* 
ben of onfortunate birds have fallen victiing to the auperttitiOD. 
A A. t 



And woe to me whene'er the dart. 
Of skilful archer reach my heait." 

Thus spoke the WreOj and more she tried. 
But in her throat the accents died, 
Sunk in a low and pkuntiTe cry, 
A short but pleasing melody ; 
She left her perch, and Bearing high, 
Vanish'd amid the cloudless sky. 
But her last accents left behind 
A dreadful weight on Gawaine'e mind; 
That fatal day, without relief, 
Gave him to glory, but to grief. 
For, scatheless, (dio' he win the fight) 
No man may cope mth ^ry might. 



ffflR. Owen was a native of Shropshire. He was horn in the 
year 1769, and was educated at the grammar-school of Lud- 
low, whae he veiy early gave indications of that genius which 
in after-life raised him to eminence. He was frequeody seen» 
out of school hours, sketching the beautiful scenery of that 
neighboutfiood ; and the first finished drawing he ever made 
was a view of Ludlow Castle, which we, bdieve, he presented 
to the dowager Lady Clive. 

Tlie late Mr. Payne Knight, whose mansion was in the 
vidnity, having noticed the dawning genius of young Owen, 
he was, by the advice and recommendation of that accom- 
plished scholar, sent to town, about the year 1788, and placed 
under the tuition of Charles Catton, the Royal Academician. 
Here he had the good fortune to attract the attrition of Sir 
Joshua ReymJds ; and having some time after made an ex- 
quisite copy of Sir Joshua's picture of Mrs, Robinscm (Per- 
dita), he had the unspeakable advantage of the president's 
advice and instruction for the remainder of the life of that 
great master. 

Strongly encouraged and aided l^ this circumstance, Mr. 
Owen applied himself witii extraordinary assiduity to tiie 
study of his profession, in which he soon made considerabtis 
progress. In the year 1797 he exhibited at Somerset Houae 
a picture of the two Misses Leaf, by which he gained gteat 
credit, and in the latter part of the same year be married flie 
elder of those ladies. The only issue of the marriage was 
one son, who was educated at Winchester and Oxford, and 
who is now in the churdi. 



Not long after his marriage, some embarrassments of a 
pecuniary nature (incurred from a train of unfortunate events, 
in the production of which Mr. Owen had no participation 
further than that of his having become responsible for a 
friend) pressed heavily upon him, and he was unexpectedly 
burdened with a considerable debt, which, however, he eventu- 
ally paid o£F to the tuli amount. This circumstance must 
have necessarily rendered Mr. Owen's up-hill path to fame 
and independeiice more steep and ni^^ed ; and yet, perhaps, 
it may be questioned whether, acting upon a powerful and 
ItoQourable mind, such as his, it did not stimulate him to a 
still greater degree of industry and exertion. 

In the year 1800, Mr. Owen settled with hie family in 
PimHoo, but carried on his professional avocations at his 
rooms in Leicester-Square, in the house next to that in wjiich 
Sr Joshua Reynolds formerly lived. At this period he made 
great advances in his art, and was in constant intercourse 
with many persons of the highest rank and consequence in 
the country. It would &r exceed our limits to enumerate 
the portruts which were painted by this accomplished artist, 
or to attempt to comment on their varied excellence. One of 
the ^irliest was a powerful resemblance of Mr. Pitt, who took 
great notice of Mr. Owen, and invited him to Walmer Casde. 
'Dils portrait made a great impression on the public, and a 
print from it was soon afterwards brought out Mr. Owen's 
wht>Ie length portrait of the Lord Chancellor is also one of 
the most faithful and characteristic likenesses that the art of 
painting ever produced, lie composition is exceedingly 
good, the ctilburing natural and bannontousj and the general 
eftect admirable. His portrait of Lord Grenville, too, is 
marked with energy and truth, and die attitude of the figure 
Is at oiice animated and easy. Nor can any one who was so 
ftnrtunate as to see his portrut of the Duchess of Buccleugfa, 
which was the principal ornament of the great room at So- 
merset House in the year in which it was eichtbited, ever 
forget the placid dignity of the figure, and the exquisite tone 
that pervades the whole canvas. Many dignitaries of the 

I ., .. I, Google 


ehurch were from time to time the subjects of Mr. Owen's 
pencil ; and in several instances, the acquaintance which com' 
menced in the piunting-room was afterwards improved into 
sincere friendship. In particular, that learned, grave, and 
apparently austere, though really amiable and excellent man, 
Dr. Cyiil Jackson, the late dean of Christ-church, of whom 
Mr. Owen painted a most spirited and vigorous half-length, 
took mnch pleasure in his society. The late Bishop of Lon- 
don also showed htm much kindness ; and the present Bishop 
of London has appointed his son, the Rev. William Owen, 
afternoon preacher at the Chapel Royal, WhitehalL 

In catching the interesting character and expression of 
childhood, Mr. Owai was also exceedingly happy. His por- 
trait of Lord William Russell's in&nt daughter, may be 
classed with the best of Sir Joshua's productions of a similar 

Mr. Owen occasionally relieved the monotony of portrait- 
pmnting, and gave an agreeable relaxation to his mind, hy 
Employing his pencil on subjects of Jancy ; although even in 
works of that description he never failed to have recourse to 
nature aS hb model. Among the earliest specimens of his 
taste and skill in compositions of this kind are, " The Blind 
Beggar of Bethnal Green," and " The Village School- 
Mistress ;" both of which have been the subjects of highly 
popular prints. " The Road-Side," pmnted for Mr. Lister 
Parker, and exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1807, also 
excited general admiration. In speaking of this beautiful 
picture, a judicious critic* observes, " Adherence to the 
simple elegance of untutored nature, unstudied ease and 
gracefulness of attitude, beauty of face and form, charm the 
heart of the spectator. The matemat tenderness with which 
the parent presents the nectarean repast to her child, the 
sound repose of the in&nt girl, the tranquil and amiable 
expression of the eldest boy, excite gentle and agreeable 
sympathy. The drapery has a graceful carelessness suitable 
to the humble characters it adorns. There is scarcely a 
• In " The News" rf M»j 17, 1807. 



painter in the Academy who can vie with tfus excellent 
axliat in the force with which he reeves his objects, i^He 
be preserveB the melloiniess and harmony of his colouring 
and effect. Sir Joshua appears to revive in this pii^ of 
nature. He indeed has more fimmess and precision of 
outline and drawing than that &mous painter ; and eqKaUy 
captivates by his fiiithiul delineations of the lovely objects 
of humble life." An exquisitely-fini^ed " Cupid," executed 
for the late Sir Thomas Heathcote, and " The Fortune- 
Teller," painted for that patriotic encourager of the arts of 
his own country, Sir John Leicester, are likewise among die 
most pleasing and interesUng producticais of the British 
school. In all these, and similar works Irom Mi-. Owen's 
pencil, the most striking characteristics are breadth and 
simplicily. The ports of the cnnposltiou are few uid lai^ ; 
and the chiaro-scuro is admirably managed. It was die 
peculiar merit of Mr. Owen, and distinctly proved the union 
of modesty and good-sense in his character, that he nevo: 
attempted subjects to the executJon of which he did not feel 
himsdf perfectly competent. From the sight of how many 
abortions would the public be saved, if his example in that 
respect were geneo'dly followed ! 

In landscape, Mr. Owen displayed great taste and feeling, 
both in his private studies, and in the "bits" which he 
occasionally introduced in his portraits. The writer of this 
little memoir well recollects a picture of " Hawarden Castle, 
in Flintshire," painted by Mr. Owen at a very early period 
c^ his life, Uid purchased by a gentleman at Chester dT the 
name of Beri(s, which, in united depth and splendour, would 
almost stand a comparison with Rembrandt's celebrated 
« Windmill." From this branch of the arts Mr. Owen 
always expressed himself as having derived the purest 

On the Itth of February, 1806, Mr. Owen was elected a 
'Royal Academician. At this period, be was enjoying the 
fruits of long study and perseverance in the fall practice of 
his profession. Among the many friends whom he had now 

I ., .. u Google 


acquired should be particularly mentioned Sir William 
Heathcote, from whom and from whose &mUy be wntinued 
ever after to receive constant marks of esteem ; and Sir George 
Beaumont, whose active friendship manifested itself to tiie 
hour of his death. He was on terms of great intimacy also 
with the Rev. Roger Owen, a relation ; a man of great wk 
and talents, who went to the East Indies as chaplain to 
Admiral Rainier, bat unbappSy died on the journey over- 
land home. Earl Fitzwilliam and Sir John Leicester were 
two of Mr. Owen's warmest patrons, and paid him much 
attention ; taid the Lord Chancellor, with that goodness of 
heart which those who best know that noble and learned 
lord ^ve him the most credit lor, showed him great kind- 
ness to the last, and even, after his death, continued it to 
his family. 

On his being appointed Principal Portrait Painter to His 
Royal Highness the Prince Regen^ in 1 813, the h<mour 
of kn^hthood was tiered to Mr. Owen ; but he respectfully 
and judiciously requested permission to declme it 

In 1814<, when the Louvre was filled with all the finest 
works of ait iu the world, Mr. Owen visited Paris in com- 
pany with his friends Colonel Ansley and Mr. Callcott, the 
Royal Academidan. 

Mr. Owen may be ctmsid^ed as having been at the height 
of his prosperity in 1817. It i^pears by a series of annual 
pocket-hooks (which centred the only accounts he ever 
kept) that at that time his practice produced him SOOO/. a 
year; so that, bad his health continued, he was in a fair way 
of realizing a large fortune. 

In ISIS he removed to Bruton-Street j and it waa with 
something like a presentiment of evil that he did so ; for he 
expressed much regret at leaving his small house at Pimlico, 
and his painting-rooms in Leicester-Square, where be hod 
worked through all bis difficulties, acquired his fa^h refu- 
tation, and was rapidly accumulating wealth. Unhappily, 
his evil-boding proved to be but too well grounded ; for the 
seeds were already sown of that disease which, soon after 


864i ttlLLIAU OWEN, Gsa* 

occupying his new residence, made its appearance, anil 
eventually confined him to a sick bed, and entirely inca- 
pacitated him for pursuing his profession. 

He, however, struggled wonderfully against the heavy 
calamity with which he was threatened ; and in the autumn of 
1818, in company with his IHend Mr. (afterwards Sir Thomas) 
Heathcote, visited Cheltenham, where he received so mnch 
benefil: from the waters as to be enabled, with improved 
health, to travel into iSta£fordshire. AlW his return to Lon- 
don he went on a visit to Sir Thomas Ackland, a gentlemim 
of whose great and persevering kindness he always entertained 
and expressed the most grateful sense. While at the barmet's 
house in Devonshire, Mr. Owen painted a whole length of 
him, intended as a present from the electors of the county to 
Lady Ackland. This was one of the last of Mr, Uwen's 
finished works. 

The next year Mr. Owen Went to Bath, and [^iced himself 
under the care of Mr. Hicks, a medical man of great skill and 
reputation ; but he returned to town without having derived 
Any benefit from his journey. Soon after he was confined to 
bis bed, or rather pallet; fi^m which he never again rose; 
and, for five years,' the only change he experienced was in 
being wheeled in the morning from his sleeping room on the 
first fioor to his drawing-room, and back at night. One ex- 
ception, indeed, was made to this pain&Ily monotonous ex- 
istence, by a removal to a pleasant part of Chelsea, about six 
months previous to his decease, in the hope that a change of 
air and scene might, at least, renovate hia spirits ; but the trial 
was unsuccessfiil, and at no period of his long illness did he 
ever softer so seriously as during this short absence fi^m home, 
Go which he gladly returned in little more than a fortnight. 

To the advice and assistance of many medical men of the 
first eminence Mr. Owen was highly indebted ; and every 
exertion was made by them to save his valuable life. The late 
Dr. Bmllie, Sir Anthony Carlisle, and Mr. Lynn, frequently 
visited the sufiermg invalid ; and Dr. Warren was indefa- 
tigable in his attentions to the last sad moment 



But, although Mf. Owen was at leDgUi redaced to such a state 
that protracted existeDce was neither to be expected nor to be 
desired, the immediate cause of his death was of a sudden and 
melancholy nature. He had been for some time in the habit 
of taking an opening draught prescribed by Sir Anthony Car- 
lisle, and.he also took every evening thirty drops of a prepar- 
ation of opium known by the name of " Battley's Dn^." In 
consequence, however, of the culpable carelessness of an as- 
sistant at a chemist's shop where Mr. Owen's medicines were 
usually procured, who erroneously labelled two phials, the 
one containing the opening draught, and the other Battley's 
Drops, Mr. Owen, very early in the morning of Friday the 
11th of February, 1825, swallowed the whole contents of a 
phial of the latter. He soon became exceedingly lethargic, 
and his ^pearance exciting a suspicion of the mistake that 
had been committed, medical assistance was instantly sent 
for. Attempts, which were partially successful, were made to 
dislodge the laudanum. Mr. Owen, however, who was in a 
state of stupor, gradually became worse ; and after lingering 
until nearly four o'clock in the afternoon, he expired. An 
inquest was held the next day before Mr. I£^s and a most 
respectable jury. Having heanl all the evidence on the sub- 
ject, they returned the following verdict: — "That the de- 
ceased, Wm. Owen, E^. died from taking a large quantity 
of Battles Drops, the bottle containing that liquid having 
been n^igently and incautiously labelled by the person who 
prepared the medicine as an opening draught, such as the sud 
Mr. Owen had been in the habit of taking." 

This melancholy event, by which the arts were deprived of 
one of their brightest ornaments, and society of one of its 
most estimable members, created a general sensation of regret 
in the puhUc mind. By the large circle of Mr. Owen's private 
friends, to whom he was endeared by his amiable qualities, 
his loss will long be sincerely deplored. In the ordinary trans- 
actions of life he was a man of strict integrity and sound judg- 
ment There was a remarkable manliness in bis character; 
of which the two following incidents in his early life afibrd 



striking prook. While at scfatral he was stabbed in (he thigh 
vith a penknife by the next boy t6 him on the iixm ; bnt had 
the Spartan firmness to conceal the drcumstanc^ in order to 
save the lad from punishmenL On "another occanon he 
plunged into the mer Teme, into whidi his lu-other, M^or 
Owen, of the Rc^al Marines, then a very little iellow, had 
fellen ; and, t^ prompt exertions, rescued him from a Watery 

Mr. Owen's fimeral, which took place on the 19th of Fe- 
bniary, was a private one ; but it was attended by Sir Thomas 
Lawrence, the Fresid^it of the Royal Academy, and by 
Me. Owen's old and attached friend^ Messts. Westmacott^ 
Phillips, and Thompson, the Roy^ Academicians. 

Tlie recollections of several of Mr. Owen's professional, 
and other friends, have been the chief materials of this brief 



Na XV. 

(FoiuiEia.T HOAR,) 


JE HIS galknt c^&cer, the sixth child, and fourth son, of George 
Hoar, (rf London, fonnerly of Middleton Era, co. Durham, 
Esq., by Frances, daughter of William Sleigh, of Stockton- 
upon-Tees, Esq., was born July S, 1758; and in March 1 781, 
was put upon die books of the WilHam and Mary yacht He 
first went to sea at the latter end of 1773, in the Seahorse 
frigate, commanded by the gallant Captain Farmer, who was 
afterwards kUled in the Quebec, and went with that officer to 
die East In^es. It was in the Seahorse that Mr. Hoar first 
met, and became the messmate of the late Lord Nelson and 
.Sir Tliomafi Trowbridge, with whom he had the enviable 
fortune of enjoying the strictest intimacy, and an unbroken 
coirespondence, dU the respective periods when death de- 
prived the country of their inesdmable services. 

On the 27th June 1777, Mr, Hoar was removed, by the 
desire of bis patron, the late Lord Mulgrave, fiY)m the Sea- 
horse to the Salisbury, bearing the broad pendant of Sir 
Edward Hughes, with whom he returned to England on the 
14th May, in the following year. On the 21st of the same 
month, he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant, and im- 
mediately f^pointed to the Monarch of 74 guns, Captain 
(afterwards Sir Joshua) Rowley. 

Whilst belonging to this ship, Lieutenant Hoar introduced 
the life-buoy into the service. An experiment, much to the 


satisraction of Capbda Rowley, bis officers and people, vras 
first made of its utility, at Spithead ; and it soon afterwards 
became general in the Channel fleet. On tbe 27th July, in 
the same year, the Monarch led the van division in the adioa 
between Keppel and d'OrviUiers, and had two men killed and 
nine wounded. 

In the month of December following^ when Captain Rowley 
hoisted a broad pendant on board the Suffolk, Lieutenant 
Hoar removed with him into that ship. On the 25th the 
Commodore sailed from Spithead with a squadron to reinforce 
Admiral Byron, in the West Indies, and joined that officer at 
St. Lucia, about the latter end of March, 1779. 

In the action off Grenada, July 6, in the same year, Mr. 
Hoar's friend, who had recently been promoted to the rank 
of rear-admiral, commanded the rear division of the British 
fleet ; and the Suffolk spears to have been very warmly en- 
gaged, having sustained considerable damage, and a loss of 
thirty-two men killed and wounded. In the month of De- 
cember following, the boats of that ship, under the orders of 
our officer, destroyed two of the enemy's vessels close to the 
shore of Martinique, in the execudon of which service, al- 
though twice engaged with the militia of the island, c»ily one 
man was killed on the part of the British. 

In March, 1780, Lieutenant Hoar accompanied Admiral 
Rowley from the Suf&lk into tbe Conqueror; which ship 
formed part of Sir George B. Rodney's fleet in tbe actions 
with de Guichen, April 17, and May 15 and 19. In these 
engagements the Conqueror had eighteen men killed and 
sixty-nine wounded. 

In the ensuing month of July, Mr. Hoar became flag^ 
Ueutenant to Admiral Rowley, and continued to hold that 
Sftpointment until Aug. 10, 1782, on which day he was made 
a coounander, into the Due d'Estitac sloop. Duting the re- 
mainder of the war we find him actively employed on-a variety 
of services, both on the coast of America and in the West 
Indies. He returned to England in the summer of 1783, and 
was soon afler put out of c<flumi$sion. 



OntheSOtii May 17SS, die subject of Uiis memoir married 
Catharine Dorothy, daughter of Per^rine Bertie, o£ Low- 
haytaa, Essex, Esq. (of the late Duke of Aocaster's fanlily) 
whose name lie assumed, and erer afterwards bore alone, 
agreeably to the will of that gentleman. 

Captain Bertie was advanced to post rank, Nov. 22, 1790, 
and, at the same period, a{:^ointed to the Leda : that frigate, 
however, was soon after put out of commission, and he was 
not again called upon till the autumn of 1 795, when he ob- 
tained the command of the Hindostan, a 54-gun ship, then 
at Spithead, under orders for the West Indies, where he 
arrived, after a long and tempestuous passage, in company 
with a squadron commanded by the present Admiral George 
Bowen, and a fleet of transports having on board several 
thousand troc^js, under tJie orders of Major-General White, 
deetined to allai^ St. Domingo ; nearly the whcde of whom 
fell victims to the climate, without having been employed on 
any s^vice of importance. 

C^lain Bertie was htmsdf seized with the ydlow fever, 
whUst commanding at Port-au-Prinoe, and be was obliged to 
apply to be surveyed. Tbis accordingly took place at Cape 
Nichola Mole ; and being invalided, he left the West Indies 
in an American ship, in the mantti of October* 1796. 

On the 29th Match, 1797, after he had recovered his 
health, he was appointed to the &:aakel of 54 guns, statioDed 
at Plymouth. In October following, he succeeded to the 
oommand of the Ardent, €4, vacant by the death of his old 
shipmate. Captain Butgetts, who fell in the memorable battle 
off CamperdowD. 

It may h&e be proper to mention an improvement which 
om* officer effected od the 42-pounder carronades, belonging 
to the Ardent's main-deck ; particularly as it was afterwards 
geoeraUy adopted in all his majesty's ships having that de- 
acrip^n of wdnance on board. CHjserving, wfarai he was 
first ^pointed to the Ardent, that the inclined plane <^ the 
carnage was in a contrary <Urection to what he conceived it 
oug^t to be — being wtthttt-beerd instead of wMout '— Ca^ 

VOt. X. B B 



tain Bertie communicated his ideas on the lul^ect to the 
board of ordnance ; and in a correspondence whidi ensaed* 
he had the satisfaction of oonrindng the heads of that depart- 
ment of the utility of his proposed alteradon. Orders w«re 
consequently given, for fitting up the carronades according to 
his directions. The alteration consisted wnply in depressing 
the chock two inches. Tills not only imparted to the gun the ' 
good property of bemg worked, and run out, with a smaller 
number of men, but it also checked the recoil, and necessarily 
added to the force of tlie shot 

The Ardent was employed under Lord Duncan, in the 
blockade of the Texel fleet, until the expedition to Holland 
took place in August, 1799. Captain Bertie then received 
orders to place himself uuder the command of Vice-Admiral 
Mitchell ; who, on (he SOth of that month (a landing having 
been made good on the 27th, and the Helder obtained pos- 
session of) passed) with his squadron, through the Nieuve 
JDiep, up to the Vlieter, near to which the Dutch fleet, con- 
sisting of eight sul of the line and four frigates, commanded 
by Admiral Storey, were lying at anchor. The enemy were 
allowed one hour's deliberation, to fight or to surrender ; and 
tiie latter having been i^^reed to, in consequence of the di^ 
affection reigning amongst the Dutch seamen. Captain Bertie 
was ordered to take possession of the Admir^ de Ruyter, of 
68 guns, and aflierwards to escort the whole of the prizes to 
^ Nore, where he arrived on the 10th September. 

In tihe following month. Captain Bertie assisted at the eva- 
cuation of the Texd. He afterwards, in common with the 
other officers of the Seet, received the thanks of Parliament, 
ferhis services -in the above-mentioned expedition. 

In the autumn of 1800, the Ardent formed one of the 
squadron s^t to the Sound under Vico-Admiral Dickson, for 
the purpose of giving weight to the mission of Lord Whit- 
werth.' .It'w&sdiiviqg.tlris ^peditipo, that the first trial was 
made of the late SbiHoinePopham's tel^n^hic signals. 

Illie Ardent socm after formed one of the squadron under 
die otders of Lord Nelson at the batde off Copenhagen, in 

V. Otitic 

ilR THOMAit BEftTIE. Sfi 

wbtcb . her oonimander particularly distit^isfied himself { 
onnpelling four of the Danish flotilla, one of which was th« 
Jutland of 60 guns, to surrender. The Ardent rtfoeived 
considerable damage, and sustained a loss of S9 men killed 
«nd is* wounded, independent of about 40 others who, being 
«bU to continue at their duty, were not included in the reports 
For bis services on this occasion, Captain Bertie again had 
the sads&ction of receiving the thanks of Parliament, and 
what was eqn^ly pleasing, Uie personal commendation of his 
heroic chief." 

" On the 9th of the same month, the subject of this memoir 
was appointed by the cominandeF-in-chie^ Sir Hyde Parker, 
to the Bellona of 74 guns, in the room of Sir lliomas Bt 
Thompson, who had lost a leg in the battle ; and he contlnned 
in tlie Baltic under the onlers of Lord Nelson, and his wor^ 
thy succesor Sir Charles M. Pol^ until the 7th July following, 
when he lef^ that station in company with the squadron sent 
home under &t Tbomafi Graves, part <^ which were ordered 
north nbont to Cork, and fivm thence proceeded <# Cadiz, 
where Captain' Bertie remained, employed in the blockade of 
the Spanish fleet, till the termination of the war. Tlie Bel- 
lona afterwards formed part of a squadron sent under the 
command of Captain (now Sir Charles) Tyler, to the WesC 
Indies, from whence our ofitcer returned to England, June £4, 
itOS, and <hi the 6th of the following mon& his ship wOs put 
out of commigsicm. 

Hostilities again commenced in the spring of 1803 ; uid On 
the 8d November, Capuin Bertie was appointed to the Coii- 
rageux of 74< guns, in which ship Rear-Admiral Dacre* soon 
after hoisted ^hik flag, and on the ith Jamutry, 1804, sdM 
&can St. Helen's accompanied by 170 sail of merchantnien 
bound to the West Indies. Four days after their departure, 
the wind, which had hitherto been &ir, shifted to the S.'W. 
and between the 15th and 38th it blew one of the most tre- 

* Earl; no Ae morning after the sedan, Lord Nelaoa went on board Iba 
Ardnit, to thank Iwr cdOinundcr, ofHcen, and pfeopla, for thtir caadactHid' 
eintioni an the preceding daji ; JcompUnwnt which iri rrtunwdlHtfa liathlMfc 
on hia lordibip Iranug the I^ip. 

B B 2 



mendous gales ever experienced, dIsperGuig the conVoy^ and 
reducing the Courageux to a mere wreck, thereby coOipelling 
her to bear up for Plyoioutb, where she arrived with the 
redniant of her scattered chai^ on the 1st of February. 

From ■ some family distress, Csfttain BertSe was suddenly 
obliged, after the Courageux had been docked and nearly 
prepared for sea, to resign the command of her, and he re- 
mained without any other appointanent until the latter end of 
December, 1S05. He then obtwned the command of the St. 
George, a second-rate, attached to the Channel fieet, and 
continued in that sh^ until the general promotion of flag- 
officers, April 38, 1808, which included, and stopped with 

Reai^Admkal Bertie was soon after a{^mted to a com- 
mand in the Baltic, under Sir James Sautnarez. He accord- 
ingly proceeded thither in the Rosamond slot^, and on hts 
arrival c^ Helsinburgh, hoisted lu? flag in the Orim of 
74 guns, from which ship it was afterwards sbified, first into 
the Vanguard) 74, and thco into the IMctator, 64 : .he re- 
turned to Yarmouth roads, January '6th, JI809, having been 
driven from his station in the Somid,' by the sodden appear- 
ance of the ice, and its great solidity, on the last day of the 
preceding year. 

On the 20th March, the Rear^Admiral again sailed for the 
Baltic, in the Stately, another 64^un ship ; and immediately 
on his arrival resumed his former occupation, namely, that of 
blodcading the island of Zealand, and affording protection, to 
the coast of Scandia, and to the British and Swedish cctnvoys 
passing through the Malmoe Cbaonel, in doing which he had 
v^teated Ainnishfe with the Danish .batteries and armed 
vessels. j, 

From the heavy gales of wind which b^ian to set in ahoot 
the 12th December* 1809, Rear-Admiral Bertie finmd it ad- 
visable to quit his anchorage off Hogaais, nearly at the 
entrance of the Sound, and proceed with the sh^ UQder his 
command to Gottenburgh, where he recdved orders from 
Admiral Dickson to return to England express. 
1 21 ■ 



On the Idth February, ISIO, finding his health to be in a 
very impaired state, our officer was obliged to strike his flag, 
and come on shore. Since that period, we believe he was 
not employed. 

In the month of June, 1813, Rear-Admiral Bertie received 
the honour of knighthood, and the royal licence and permis- 
sion to accept and wear the insignia of a Knight Commander 
of the Order of the Sword, which the late. King of Sweden 
had been pleased to confer upon him, in testimony of his 
merits and services. He was advanced to the rank of Vice- 
Admiral, December 4di, in the same year. 

Sir Thomas Bertie died on the 13tb Jane, 1825, at Twy> 
ford Lodge, in Hampshire, the residence of his brother, 
jGeorge Hoar, Esq. 

Ilie fbre^ing memoir has been taken from Marshall's 
• Royal Naval Biogrqihy." 



No. XVI. 

The Riqht Honourable 




1 HE late Earl of Donoughmore was tbe eldest koh of the 
Right Honourable John Hely HutchinBOD, who was caUed t« 
the bar in 1748, returned to parliament for I^inesborough in 
1759, and in 1761 for the city of Cork (which he continued 
to represent until his death); appointed Prime Seijeant at 
Law in 1762, Provost of Trinity College, Dublin, in 177*, 
and Principal Secretary of State for Ireland in 1777; and 
who married in 1754 Christiana, daughter of I^orenzo Nixon, 
of Mumy, county oif Wicklow, Esq., and niece and heir of 
Richard Hutchinson, of Knocklofty, county of Tipperary, 
Esq., decended Irom an ancient femily of Enghsh origin ; of 
whom Christopher Hutchinson, Esq. the first of ^e fiunily 
in Ireland, had a grant from Queen Elizabeth of the priory 
of Cahir, and its possessions. On the 16th ofOctober, 1783, 
Mrs. Hutchinson was created Baroness Doaoughmore. 

Tbe Right Honourable John Hely Hutchinson was the 
first statesman in Ireland who, both in the cabinet and out 
of it, was the avowed and uncompromising advocate of Ca- 
tholic emandpation, as well as a repeal of those baneiul 
commercial restrictions which, while they paralyzed the ener- 
p&s of Ireland, diminished the general resources of tbe 



British empire. In his work called " Commercial Restraints," 
Mr. Hutchinson developed all diose great cranmercial prin- 
ciples which sre now, after an interval of seventy years, acted 
lipon by the enlightened polity of the Imperial government. 

The late Earl of Donoughmore was bora January 29, 
1756. He received his early education at Eton; whence' he 
went to Oxford ; but he graduated at Trinity College, Dnb- 
lin, as a mark of respect to his &t)ier, the provost. As soon 
as bis age qualified him, he obtained a seat in the Irish 
House of Commtms ; and (he first occasion on which he ad> 
dressed the House was in support of the bill introduced in 
1776 by Mr. Gardiner, for the purpose of permitting the 
Roman Catholics to take long leases of land. ' This speech 
was considered a very fine composition, and made a. great 
impression on Uie House. One sentence in particular pro- 
duced a powerful e^t- The young orator was speaking in 
answer to those who had t)een dwelling on the danger which 
might arise from allowing the Roman Catholics to obtota 
luided property: — " If the Catholics are still formidable," 
he observed, " let them be chained. Ch^ them to the 
liind. The links of that chain will bind them no less dosely 
to the state I" It is a remarkable fact, that from the very 
commencement <^ the relaxation of the penal code against 
the Roman Catholics to the last hour of his life, Lord 
Donoughmore was present on every occasion when the ques- 
tion was a^tated in parliament, and maintained, by his vote, 
and in most instances by his eloquence, the justice and neces- 
sity of the entire repeal of that code. 

In the year 1781, I.ord Donoughmore was appointed a 
commissioner of the customs in Irdand, which situation be 
retained till the year 1802. On the 2*th of Jun,e, 1788, his 
mother. Baroness Donoughmore, dying, after a long life 
passed in the discharge of every moral and religious duty, he 
succeeded to her tides. 

In 179^, the noble Lord raised, in an incredibly short 
space of time, the 9*th regiment, for his distinguished Iwother, 
LOTd, tiiea Colonel, Hutchmson ; and soon after the late 

B B 4 



llSth re^moit, of which, on the 21st of July \^9i, hewot 
hiraself ap^nted UeuMn&nt-coloivei commandsnt, receiving 
full pay. , 

Early in the year 1795, Lord Donoughmore's &ther died, 
leaving him at the head of a DUmeroas ftmUy, to whom the 
noble lord's conduct has ever been that of a most kind and 
affecti<Hiate brother ; and bequeathing to him tl»U: cause, the 
support of which had formed one of the most earnest objects 
of Mr. Hutchinson's public life. The following address was 
soon after presented to Lord Don ongh more, by a ddegation 
from the Roman Catholics of the city of Dublin i — 

" To the R^ht Hon. Lord Donoughmore. 
" My Lord, 

*< The Catholics of Dublin have instructed us to express to 
your Ix>rds)rip the sentiments of sincere and ardent gratitude 
which they feel to you and your timily ; and in discharging 
this duty we assume to ourselves no small degree of pr^e, 
because we know that in addressuig your Lord^ip we address 
the hereditary advocate of Catholic emailcipatidn. 

** Your late illustrious &ther had attentively conadered the 
whole code of Popery laws, not only as ^ as they related to 
the persons who unfortunately were the victims of their seve- 
rity, but also as fer as they affected the interests of this king^ 
dom in general ; and never was the Catholic question the 
subject of parliamentary discussion that he did not forcibly 
reprobate the impolicy of imposing penalties on opinions, and 
classifying people according to their creeds. 

" He was too great a statesman to think that four-fifths of a 
nation could be polidcally degraded, without the degradatiai), 
in a' great measure, of the remaining part of its inhabitants ; 
and that civil disabilities could be added to politkel restraints^ 
without the ruin of many of the arts that are useful to life, 
and the total extinctioD of all those sentiments of national ho- 
nour and pride which give rank and dignity to one country in 
the mind of anothei-. 

** You, my Lord, are heir not only to the fortuttes, but to 


die tidents snd opinions of your {Htber ; and, in coBjunCtion 
with yODT libentl and enlightened brothers, are endeavouring 
to complete tfte work which he was among the first to 

" You feel, in cwnDion, with the reeding and disinter^ted 
part of the community, that the slavery of Catholics is not 
necessary to the freedom of Protestaata. The genius aiid 
character of the times in ^)4iidi you live have not escaped your 
observation. You know that neither superstition nor eothu- 
siasm, in matters of religion, are among the maladies of the 
present day ; and that, whatever tnight have been thfe ddu- 
sions of former ages, nothing is now less hkely than contests 
among sectaries to procure legal and temporal prefer^ces for 
their clergy and th&t respective creeds. You are sensible 
that a change c^ circumstances will produce a change of tastes 
and opinions ; that bigotry in one age may be succeeded by 
liberality in another; and you have too niuch penetration not 
to perceive that Catholics, instead of being fixed to an im- 
movable anchor of prejudice and passion, ' have boated witb 
the times, and caught ^e mannersof their contemporaries. 

** Influenced by these considerations, your Lordship has inu- 
formly laboured to purify the statute-book frdm tile tahit vf 
penal laws, and to unite all descriptions of your countrymen 
in a bond of common interest. Animated by the recoUection 
bf your iather'a example, and aided by that immortal man who 
restored to Irehuid its constkution, your lordship cannot Ml 
of success ; — and it is with the highest saljs&ction we antici- 
pate the day when there shall be no distinctions in this country, 
but those of subjects and rulers, — and when churches, dedi- 
cated to difierent modes of wor^p, shall give rise to as liUle 
popular animosi^ and contention, as academies institiited for 
teaching the different branches of human learning. 

" As soon 35 this aiispicious event shall obtain, sev^^ abuses, 
now existing, will be removed, and an end will be,put .to. the 
insults which Ireland now receives, and is forced to bear in 
silence, frc^m sordid and unworthy men, who have not candour 
enough, to. nuks allowances for the causes of her depiessioiQ* 

I , . u Google 


Dor viitue and patriotism enough to assist in removing tbem. 
The iii^nuity of the people will be called forth ; in the place 
of reUgious discord and its folly, a spirit of emulation wilt arise 
in arts, in commerce, and in manufactures; habits of so- 
brie^ and industry wilt gradually introduce themselves ; the 
pride and haughtiness of wealth and station will be sofkned; 
a peasantry of bold and manly feelings, more disposed to labour^ 
and less disposed to riot, will grow up ; each rank in society 
will acquire the character and manners suited to it ; an easy 
gradation, together with a connexion and sympathy, will be 
felt through all the walks of life, &om the palace to the cot- 
tage : — no man wUl be so independent as to presume to act 
the tyrant, and few will he so dependuit as to be completely 
servile and abject. 

" In a system of this kind, wbere relations and dependencies 
are all ascertained and established, the duties which one man 
owes to another will be better practised than where all is dis- 
connected and digointed. Statesmen will cease to be in- 
temperate, ferocious, and iilquisitorial ; and the obedience of 
the people will be prompt and cheerful, in proportion as their 
interests are consulted, their prejifdices indulged, and their 
cfimions respected, if not altogether satisfied. 

" To you, my lord, the merit of opening such lair and flat- 
tering prospects, in a great d^^ree, belongs; and, as tiiey 
increase aad ripeb, your glory, and the gi^tude c^ yotir 
tountrymen, will increase tt^ther. 

. '* Thomas Brauoqaix, Chairman. . 
John Sw££Tmak, Secretary," 

To whidli bb LordtJiip was pleased to return the following 

" Gentiemen, 
" I am truly thankful to you for your aflfecttonate address. 
You have placed me in the situation in which I am most proud 
to stand, by connecting me viih the exertions of my bmily ; 
and you have touched the master feelingofmy heart, by honoar- 
ittg that integrity, and those talents w^iich are unhappily lost to 


fdm caus^ And to that of the psblic. Yoa state the (pinions 
(Uid ceiiduot of Dty late &ther, upon the great c[ueBtion of your 
emancipation, tfuly as they were. — Amongst the Tarious ob- 
jects which engaged his attention during the course of a long 
pu'liamentaiy life, there was nothing which he considered so 
ecseatial to the prosperity of Irehmd, as the union of all her 
inhabitants. He had been taught, by his experience and 
observation,' that the mUfortunes of bis country had proceeded 
from bar pditical disstotionE. He had, therefore, turned his 
attention to the ^solute necessity of healmg those animcsiliest 
and of repealing that fiital ^steoi of laws, in which he saw 
nothing but national calamity; in which he has been able to 
trace Uie decay of arts, agriculture, and manubctnres; tbe 
nun of your commerce; the extinguishment of the public 
iDlod ; the oppreMion of the Catholic ; the weakness of the 
Protestant — and the d^;radation of both. 

" Impressed with this conviction, he was the mnSorm and 
zefttenS ftoseitor of youf rif^ts, for a' period of more than thirty 
yaars. He has bequeathed to ine hiv opinTons and his exam- 
ple, and I cherish then as the most valued part of my inherit- 
ance;' You'.h'are adopted my family, -aod mysdf, as your 
hereditary advocates. It is the post of honour, and we will 
not- desert it We will coutime.>to support you in whatever 
■ituatida you may be placed-r-unattracted by the feshion as 
n&vaiped by tbe prejudice of ihe moment. We will assert 
tbe jnstice of youf tlamis, whether yoa are dignified again by 
royal recommendation, or driven a second time fn»n the doors 
of the Parliament. 

" When I supported your bill in 1792^ it was * not for die 
privities only which it confered, but for tbe principle which 
it established, ->— a growing principle, of legitimate claim on the 
one band, and liberal concession on the other.' I would have 
freely given you everv thing at that moment, for yon know my 
principle has ever been general comprehension, It cannot b£ 
more my foeling now, than it has ever been since tbe claims of 
the Catholic body have begun to aw^es the public mind. 
Bot, to those who resisted ui the outset, or who hesitated as 



they odTanced in Ihegreat voi^ of your adbf^on into the 
8t8te ; to such, I would urge what ^ey have given already, 
fts the sorest earnest to the Catholic of that which remains 
behind;— to them I would answer, that the victory of 1 793, 
which gave you the franchise, has insured all you claim now, 
as included in the same pditlcal equity — as a link of the same 
great national chaiD. * It is vain to ima^ne, that admission to 
the elective franchise does not draw with it the right of repre- 
sentation, — for upcHi what ground can it be said, that men ore 
fit to be electors, and unfit to be elected, — and giving them a 
Bettt in one Hoase, upon what [xinciple can it berefiised to them 
in the other. The next step to the offices of civil and stilt- 
tary power inevit^ly follows ; for it catmot be said, that men 
who are allowed to be qualified for I^i^tion, are unfit to be 
misled with the execution of those laws which they join in 

' " I ado|it the argument of the oblest of your oppcments, 
though I r^oice that we have effectually resisted the conclu- 
sion which he would have drawn ~ and I su[^rt yDur. com- 
plete emancipation now, as the neceSEary coOfieqdence of the 
privil^es of 179i; -^to crown that system of justice and o£ 
liberality, whjeh has neurly muted us into one people; — to 
Strengthen the Protestant cause, by quieting the Catholic 
mind;— to shut up 'tHi time shall be no mot^ eveiy sngiy 
discussion ;-^to make every man, verily and indeed, a n«gh- 
hour to his fellow citiisen ; — and to secure to the state, the 
all^iance <^ every member of the commum^,.by giving to 
aU, those motives to action which influence aU mankind, their 
own intetest aad happiness. 

" But we are UAd by those who would s^tarale the body of 
your people from those who have led them on to' the ranlf 
they now bold as regenerated members of a &ee st^e, that they 
are already in fiill possession of all tltat was iqterestingto the 
Catholic cotnmunity: ; — that this is the question of your aris- 
tecraey; — ^and that the peojde feel that they h^m nothing 
embarked in the even^ of the contest. But ^ut your, ears 
against soch arguments as tend only to weak^ and to dis- 
unite. I tell you, you are all interested ^like, Stom the peer 


to tile peasant. Give the enemies oC yotu emanoiptituHi but 
tbe prinople of otte evduuoa upon which to take th.^ atmv^ 
and tJie whole fabric of your liberties will totter to its found- 

' *' It is not, therefore, so much for the value of what remains 
to be fpveq, which to the Protestant is noUiingf as against the 
pruiciple of the exceptjon, which may be every thing to the 
Catholic. It is not only that your property and talents may 
be excluded from that parliament, to which you have r^ained 
your constitution^ privilege of becomii^ electors ; — it is not 
cmly that your ancient nobility may not be thruBt from the seats 
of their forefathers ; — it is not theadmission into the flew except- 
ed offi<%s of the state for which you are contending at the pre- 
~ s^it moment ; — it is for the security of all your acquisitions 
of the last seventeen years, within which auspicious period you 
have become freemen, and Ireland an independent nation. 
You are contending against that spirit <^ exdusion, which if 
you are not enabled to resist with reason and with e£^ in its 
jiillest extent, you are entitled to no political opacity whatso- 
ever — that spn-it of exclusion which must be melted down in 
the acknowledged justice of your claims, fjpening wide the 
arms of die legislature to embrace all the members of the 
state, — or it will rise against yOu in some more questionable 
shape; and the same principle may reclaim in other times 
your glorious acquisitions of 1 793, which would now withhold 
the reninant of privilege that is left. 

" But, whatever shape it may assume I will speak to the 
troubled spirit in the firm tone of truth and of consistency. I 
will uphold the r^ interests of the Protestant community 
against the prgudices of the few — for we "have seen a new 
light, and the mist of error is dissolving away space. To the 
Ca^if^c I need not preach patience and moderation, for I r^ 
member the merits and the sulferings of a century; — his 
dutiful obedience to the law -^his oflfectionate loyalty to the 
King—- and his experienced devoticm to the constitution of 
his country. 

** But X antidpate your success. I see it in tlte justice i^ 



your claims — in the flmnen and onatBimity of the CadraKii 

body — in the zeal arid the eloquence of tho^ who sxi its 
condactors — in the genend concurrence of your Protectant 
brethren — in the distinguishing propensity of the royal -mind 
to abrogate penalties, and to confer privil^es upon all"his 
siil^ects — in the exi^ncy of the times, and the neceswty of 
uniting the n^on in a momerit awful b$ thti present — in the 
energy of your great supporter — in those giguitic talents, 
before which resistance retires, and diflicalties Vanish intb 
wr — in that enthusiasm which led us on to honour and ith> 
dependence — that spmt'of peace, which would conciliate alt 
our jarring interests, and unite all our petite. 


Ob the 7tii of November, 1797, Lord .Ponougbmore was 
created a Viscount, by the title of Viscount Sujrdale. 

The noble lord's conduct in the rebellion of 1798 was 
above all praise, Intrepid and persevering in the dischai-ge 
of what he felt to be his duty, while, by his presence and 
active exertions in Cork,' he kept the riotous and rebellious of 
that city and neighbourhood in awe, he repressed and pr»< 
vented many of those exercises of " vi^ur beyond the law," 
which the inflamed zeal of the partisans of government was 
then elsewhere- daily exhibiting. During that reign of terror^ 
Lord Conoughmore commanded the' Cork legion,; and liis 
combined firmness and humanity gained him the admiratioQ 
and esteem of all good men. 

On the 1st of January, 1800, Lord Donoughmore received 
his appointment as colonel in the army. On the fi9th of De^ 
cember in the same year, he was advanced tQthejdi^u^ of 
an earldom, "with special remainder to tlie heirs m^of 
Christiana Baroness Donoughmore," and he was ako, elected 
one ^of the twenty-eight representative peers of Ireland, for 
life. On the 30th of October, 1805, he was appointed major- 

In May 1806, Lord Donoughmore was swont a s^yy- 
eounsellor, and was appointed joint postmaster-^nerfdiie 



fretand; which situation he resigned on the accession of Mr. 
Percivel to power. 

Although, during the whole of the period to which we hare 
hitherto adverted, Lord Donoughmore shoved himself the 
warm and constant supporter of t^e claims of his Catholic 
iellow-couotrymen, circumstances now occurred which served 
to draw sdll more dosely the ties between them, and to render 
the noble lord, not more uncere, or more inde&tigable (for 
that was impossible), hut more con^icuous in his parliament' 
ary efibrts in their behalf. In consequence of a difference 
of opinion which took place in 1810 between the Roman Ca- 
tholics of Ireland and Lord Grenville, with respect to the 
nature of the proffered securities which the latter thought 
ou^t to accompimy the application to parliament of the 
former, the Catholics determined to confide their petition to 
the House of Lords, and the immediate task c^ urging that 
House to a compliance with its prayer, to the care and ad- 
vocacy of the Earl of Donoughmore. Accordingly, on the 
12th (rf March 1810, Lord Donoughmore presented two pe- 
tions ; the one from the general body of the Catholics of Ire- 
land, and the other from the Catliolics of the city of Cork« 
praying to be relieved from the degrading disabilities under 
which they were suffering ; and on the 6th of June, in the same 
year, ^e noble earl moved to refer the petitions to a com- 
mittee of the whole House. Lord Donoughmore prefaced 
this latter motion by a very able and eloquent speech. He 
commenced by generously defending the conduct of Lord 
Grenville, although he differed from that noble baron in bis 
opinion of the necessity of any further securities on the part 
of the Catholics, and he expressed the concern whidi he felt 
at the strictures which he had met with on one who had al- 
ways shown himself so warm and sincere a friend to the 
Catholic cause. The noble earl then proceeded to state and 
combat the various objecdons which had, at different times, 
been urged agiunst concession to the Catholics, denying that 
it would, in the slightest degree, trench on any of the essential 
principles of the constitution. He especially ridiculed the 



idea that any danger existed wlueh diould render the Aui- 
tinuance of restriction necessary ; — "tor wJiere is noW}" he 
observed, " an insdeot pretender to the British crown ? Is 
there a British subiect who does not know atid feet, with coa- 
sdoas security, that it is irrerocaUy seated on the brows of 
His Majesty's iUustrious house ? Where are w« now to find 
the principle of that formidi^le ccmfederticy wUh which our 
ancestors had to contmd — the assertion of the rights of 
exiled royalty, &nd the repudiated Catholic &ith ? Where are 
now the -thunders of the once atl-^werful head dfthat diurcb, 
with which he was accustomed to shake the monarch on his 
Uuxme, and to convulse the ChrisUan world ? If all thesis 
daogecs hare so entirdy ceased, that for the- prtnf of their 
ever ibaving had any exi^ienee at any period we can only look 
to the history of times liMig gcme by— I call upon those who 
atiB cling to those exclusions which they can no longer de- 
fend, for one jostifiableargument, one plea of even cdourable 
expediency, for the continuance of these degrading ba^es of 
distinction on thie important class of oiit community,— tHU- 
meroas, loyal, and enei^etic." After a powerful and deUuied 
course of reasoning, to prove the justice and necessity of 
grantii^ the rdtef for whi<ih the petitioners prayed, the ooiAe 
earl thus concluded : — " What is it <^ which I coni}^in, wi 
the part of His Majesty's Cotliolic subjects ? — an iujurious 
system of laws, refusing equal benefits, and imposing unequal 
i^eatrainta. And what do I demand on their behalf? — An 
CKemptaon ir6m unequal restriction ; the ^oyment of their 
birthright as dtiaens of a iree state ; aad a full and complete 
participation in every right, privilege and immunity of the 
firitigb-'ooDadtution. Like the quali^ of that endearing, at- 
trttiDte- of Omnipotem Power, ymir ' merciful dispensatioas 
would be twice Uessed — in him that ^ves, and him that 
takes ; — in ,tbe deliverance of your enfrondused Catholic miU 
lions^fnnn unmerited iafuit and d^adarioii, and m die in- 
creased and assured security oftheProtertantatate; preaeoting 
In every iosc^nt menace of the implacable foe to the, British 
ounk and greatness a wall <^ adamant^ in the uncraiquerafale 

!■.,- ...I., Google 


enef^gies <^ a united people." The noble earl's reply at the 
close of the debate was equally animated. 
' In the debate on the Idth of February 181 1, on Bord Mbira's 
motion respecting Mr. Wellesley Pole's celebrated- Circalar, 
£ord Donoughmore took the opportunity of defending the 
Irish Catholics from various and contradictory imputations. — 
" Your lordships are told at one moment, that the alleged 
^ssentions of the Catholics justified this measure; and sK 
another, diat their deliberate and systematic perseverance iit 
tite violatioa of the law hod made it necessary. But even 
insinuations of a less liberal nature have been tJirown out; — ' 
die real otgect of those meetio^ has been darkly hinted at 
with a mischievous air of mystery. The real object of th& 
Catholic is his avowed one — to obtain the restoration of in- 
disputable constitutional lights. His l^al and constituttonal' 
donand (^ them ought not to be rejected with such insulting' 
suspicions; Standing here as the person selected by the IrisH^ 
Catholics to present to your lordships theirclkims upon your 
justice, I should' ill deserve the high honour they have con- 
ferred upon me if I could patiently hear their motives mis-' 
represented, their principlfes misstated, and their views and 
gencr^ character abandoned to suspicions as gross as they are' 
groundless." When the subject of Mr. Pole's Circular ^ain 
came under discossion on the Marquis of Lansdowne's motion,' 
SSd February 1811, Lord Donoughmore again defended the- 
Catholic body, and remonstrated against the line of policy' 
which His Majesty's government on both sides of the water' 
had adopted respecting them. 

On the I6th June 1811, Lord Donoughmore again moved ' 
to refer the Catholic Petitious to a comoiittee of the whole 
House. He re-statsd, with'gr^ force, the arguments which,' 
in his opinion, ought toinduce their lordships to consent to 
his proposition. — '* On behalf of the petitioners, he only 
daimed the justice of being permitted to prove the merits of' 
thar case; the opportunity of rebutting those false and cruel' 
aspersions by which their holy religion, and they, as the pro- ' 
leffiors of it, had been unceasingly assailed ; the opportunity 

VOL. X, C C 



, of challenging their cslumniatcH^ to come forth t^^ show in 
what manner they had sinned ag^nst theur connnon 9^4007, 
by wjuit transgressions of theirs they had deservedtbi^ con- 
ditwn (^ restrfunt and degradation nnder which they still con-; 
tinned to suffer. Consistently with the unity of the CftboUo 
church, under one and the same spiritual bead, its gre^ 
land-mark and distinguishii^ cbaiacteristict bh^ which tjljey- 
conid never cease to uplmld until they should have renounced, 

' the reli^n. of their ferefatbers, there was no sacrifice which.. 
they were not prepared to make to conciliate the esteeu^ ap^ 
the auctions of their Protestant fellow-sul^ects, The soi^ 
and substance of his humble but earnest soljci^ion ^ th^T: 
lord^ps, on bdalf of his petitioning ^nd a^rieved coiintry-rt 
m^r ^"^ ^°}y ^}^ :-~that they would not pi;ononn<^ ffjainst 
them the hard sentence of perpetual exclusion fron; a just and, 
equ^ participation in all the rights and privileges <^ the con-, 
stitution, as disaffected members of the st^te, widioiit the 
decent formality of some previous inyestigatitin,— thid they 
would not dismiss them from theu* bar discredited ^d ccm- 
Oemned unheard." 

On the 1st of January, lei^. Lord Donoughmore rec^yedr 
his commission as Lieutenant-general. 

On the 20th of April, 1812, he presented' the general peti* 
tiiHi of the Roman Catholics of Ireland; and, on the nei^ day^, 
moved to refer it to the consideration of a committee of (he 
whole House. " Simple and uncomplicated, in all its native^ 
digni^ aifd importance" explaimed the noble lord, " the qause 
of your Catholic fellow-suligects ngw approaches yot^r lordship^.. 
The known removal of that c^jstoclewhich has so long stood 
in tha way of its accomplishment, leav^ every man at liberty. 
to takeup die question now on its own peculiar grounds. And 
though there should be some little deviation "A-om fonAer 
opimoDS apd former votes, no one need be ashamed of such 
a change of seotiroent, or of. turning, however late, out. of, the 
nxid ill which be has been travelling too long, into that>pMh 
which l^ads to national conctliatioli, and national stt^igth," — 
** Having at all times, whenever it has. fallen to my lot to. 

Lord donoughmore'. 387 

a^f^ssyoiir lordships on this subject, put the question on 
the strong ground of constitutional right, L will not now 
degnidte its magnitude and importance by condescending to 
enter into a detailed consideration of the particular impuScy 
land misdiief of each existing disability ; or to at'gue every 
sepitrftte head of exclusion as a distinct grievance in itself, on 
its own peciiliar constitutional demerits. It is the principle 
of exclusion agdnst which I raise my voice, — that principle 
which would draw a line of perpetual demarcation between 
the citizens of the same commonwealth, tlie subjects of the 
same king; which would brand upon the foreheads of our 
Catholic countrymen the foul imputation of unassured fidelity 
to the parent state; which would claim for the Protestant 
part of the community the British constitution as their exclu- 
sive inheritance, and cut up by the roots every prospect of 
uniting those conflicting interests, by that complete and useful 
adjustment which can be expected to stand on no foundation 
less Arm than this, — the enjoyment of the same constitu- 
tional privileges, the acknowledgment of the same constitu- 
tional rights." — " On the act of 1793, I fake my stand; 
containuig, as it does, a long catalogue <5f grievous, disabilities- 
I produce it to your lordships as sufficient evidence to prove 
the case of fny Catholic countrymen, in the existence of those 
exclusions from constitutional privileges, the removal of which 
is tbe ground of their present appeal to the justice and wisdom 
(^this House. I produce the same statute to your lordships, 
as a most important document in &vour of the petldoner's 
clums, in another point of view ; inasmuch as, by the great 
itnportonce of the privities which it restores, it enacts the 
most authentic proof of the conviction of the legislature, that 
that class of persons on whom it had conferred already so 
great a portion of political power, were worthy of perfect 
and complete confidence, as members of the Protestant state. 
On that foundation, so ably and so^ broadly laid in the 
statesman-like and weighty argument of a noble marquis 
( Wellesley,) on a late occasion, I lay the corner-stone of my 
argument. I say, with him, that every restramt excluding a 
c c 2 


partlculRr description of Uie subjects of any state fcoBi die 
enjoyment of advantages possessed by the community, ia in 
itself a positive evil." Adverting to an observation which 
had fiilleQ on a recent occasion from one of His Majes^s 
ministers (Lord Mulgrave), who bad said, that although the 
Catholics had declared they would be satisfied with tbe con- 
cessions of 1793, they again came, like the beggar in Gil Bias, 
asking alms, with a pistol pointed to their lordships' breasts, 
X>ord Donoughmore indignantly asked, " Are my Catholic 
countrymen then to be charaterized as bq^rs by His Majesty's 
mild, conciliating, and temperate ministers? If they are beg- 
gars, who made them so ? They have, unhappily, had the full 
benefits of your instruction and fraternity for the last six 
hundred years. You complain of your own acts. It was 
your own barbarizing code which forcibly arrested from the 
Catholic the constitution of his country, his inheritance, and 
birthright — which made him, as it were, an alien in his 
native land. It was the all-devouring spirit of your commer- 
cial monopoly which stripped, my countrjrmen of their iqanu- 
&ctnres, their commerce, and their industry. It was your 
insatJste lust of power that d^mded the parliament and the 
natioo by the arrc^ant assomption of binding by your laws 
another legisbiture as independent as your own. But when, 
and under what circumstances, did the Catholic,^ and the 
Protestant, and the parliament, reclaim and recover their 
invaded right? In times of British weakness and apprehen- 
sion. When did these invasions of their rights fell upon my 
countrymen with the greatest weight ? In the most triumphant 
moments of British strength, pride, and pro^erity. Under 
such impressions as these, I feel it to be my bounden duty, 
eamestiy to recommend to your lordships' prompt and favour- 
able consideration, the manifold grievances of your Catholic 
^oii^ubjects, whilst the grant may still preserve somewhat 
of tbe dignity and the grace of unforced concession." The 
disappointment of the expectations which the Catholics 
founded on the presumed fevourable opinion towards them 
of his present Majesty, then recenUy invested with the 


Regency, Lord Donougbmore thus elegantly described : — 
•* To no event have my Catholic countrymen ever looked 
with so much confident and anxious hope as to that auspicious 
moment, when, in the fulness of time, the present hcir-^pa- 
rent to the crown, should assume the government of these his 
realms. In him, they thought they saw the messenger of 
peace, with healing on hb wing, the promised guardian of the 
people's rights — of the fomented discord of his father's Irish 
subjects the indignant spectator, of their interests the avowed 
and zealous assertor, to Catholic privilege an assured and 
plighted friend. — When the exercise of the eiiecutive func- 
tions was suspended, for the first time, by the same awful 
visitation, Ireland successfully maintained the cause of the 
Prince, not equally triumphant in this more favoured naUon; 
committmg to him, the legitimate heir to alt the royal autho- 
rities, the administration of his own inheritance, until returning 
health should restore his sceptre to the suffering King. The 
heart of the illustrious person overflowed with affectionate and 
just feelings ; and tny confiding countrymen fondly trusted that 
&ey had bound their future monarch to them by a double 
tae: How sanguine were their hopes 1 How strong and firmly- 
rooted the fonndstions on which they seemed to rest ! But 
diey are gone — blasted at the moment of full maturity; and 
nistead of that rich and abundant Harvest of naUonal union 
and prosperi^ which we were prepared to gather, as the first 
fruits of the promised conciliation of the illustrious person, 
die sharpened edge of a slumbenng statute which had never 
been awakened before for the annoyance of the people, called 
for the first time into mischievous activity, and turned ag^nst - 
the Cadiolics, assembled for the lawfiil purpose of remonstrat- 
ing for the redress of grievances; and those desperate men 
who dared thus to int^cept, in their constitutional and le^ti- 
Oiate progress to the parliament and to the tlirone, the peti- 
tions (^ an oppressed community of four millions of their 
tellow-subjects, confirmed in the full possession of all their 
former power, in the foil exercise of alt their former intole- 
rance, as the ministers of his own peculiar choice, by the first 
cc 3 


act of the unlimited Regent I" — " Tlie ministers have drawn, 
as it were, a magic circle round the throne, into which none 
are permitted to enter on whom the confidence of the iUus- 
trious person has been accustomed to repose. Within its 
range, the artificers of mischief have not ceased to work with 
too successful industry. What phantoms have the^ not con- 
jured iip, to warp the judgment, excite the feelings,. and appal 
the firpmess of the royal mind ! But though the evil genius 
should assume a mitred, nay, more than noble form, the 
sainted aspect which political bigotry delights to weai% or the 
lineaments of that softer sex which first beguiled man to his 
destruction— though, to the allurements of Calypso's cofirt 
were joined the mi^c and the charms of that matured en- 
chantress — should the spirit of darkness take tlie human 
shape, and issuing forth from the inmost recesses of the 
gaming-house and the brothel, presume to place itself neu- 
the royal ear — what though the potent spell should not have 
worked in vain, and that the bpasted recantation of all encum- 
bering prepossessions and inconvenient prejudices had already 
marked the triumph of its course — though from the royal 
side they ^lould have torn the chosen friend of his ^uth, 
and fiuthful counsellor of his niaturer years^ the boas^ pf his 
own gallant profession, the pride,' the hope^ the refuge oi my, 
distracted country, and a high and conspicuous ornament of 
your's — though they should have banished from the xtrgpi. 
councils talents, integrity, honour, and' high-mindednes& lika 
his, and should have selected for thjs illustrious person of. 
- associate- and an adviser from'Change^jiUey and from tii% 
stews — ^^ though ^they should thus have filled m> tcj its /till 
measure the disgustiiig catalc^ue of their enormities, -r^'P 
must still cling to the foundering vesse^ and call Jo o:^ aid 
those characteristic British energies, by which the ; ancestors 
of those whom I have now the honour to address, have so 
ofren and so nobly saved the sinking state," 

On the 1st of July, 1812, Lofd Donoughmore suppcfted 
the Marquis of AVellesley's motion, that the house would, 
early in the next session, take into Its inijst serious cogs^er- 

LORD donoughmo&e; 391 

Mon; the state of the laws affecting His Majesty's Roman 
Catholic subjects in Great Britain and Ireland. On the 19th 
of March, 1813, he presented petitions from the general body 
of the Catholics, the Olholicsof the county and city of Cork, 
and the counties of Roscommon and Tipperary ; biit in con- 
^eqnende of the introduction into the House of Commons, of 
a bill for the relief of the Catholics, which hie trusted would 
reach the House of Lords, he felt it unnecessary to appomf 
Any day for calling the attention (tf their lordships to the 

The expectations of die noble earl and of the Catholic 
body having, however, once more been disappointed. Lord 
JDono'ughniore, on the, 8th of June, 1814, again presented the 
general petition of tJie Catholics of Irdand, prayiijg tjie re- 
fnovid of all eidsting disabilities; also similar petitions from 
the embolics of the city and county of Cork, the town of 
<!!arrick-on-SuiT, die county of "Bpperary, and the county ot 
xtoscommon; and stated, as the gr<Hiiids on ^b>ch he de- 
clined bringing the subject under discussion in that session, 
the opinion of his own' parliamentary friends and the friends 
OP llie Catholic cause, " that the late proceedings pf the 
Cfatholic board (the only accretlited organ for the' expression 
ot the sentiments iuid feelings of the Irish Catholic commu- 
nity,) had tended to retard rather than to advance, their own 
ihferests, and the success of their question." The noble earl 
jdded, diat although he did not himself think that liiat cause 
was sufficient to indiice, a postponement of the discussion of 
^e CMhcJic clakos, yet that the manner in which the Roman 
Catholics of Ireland geneiidly had received the rescript of 
&e sub-prefect of the propaganda, the depository of tlie. papal 
power, fully satisfied him of the propriety <^ tlie postpone-^ 
menl. '. ' -- 

' When, on the 11th of Novebjber, 1814, Earl FitzwilUani 
catl^ the' attention of the House pf Lords to the cbntinuahce 
of the militia in an embodied state, notwithstanding the re- 
storation of peace^ Lord Donoughmore made some strong 
remarks on the vacitlatioii which ministers had exhibited on 
c c 4 


S9k lord donoughmore. 

that subject, especially in Ireland, The noble lord also took 
a part in the discussion ori^nated by E^l Damley, on the 
15lh of November, upon the conduct of the naval adminis- 
tration; as, likewise, in the conversation of the 21st of No- 
vember, on the negociations between Great Britain and 
America, at Ghent. On the 24th of November, Lord 
Donougfamora made three motions. The first, which was 
for ^ an address to the Pnnce R«gent, for a copy of the 
representations which had been made to His Aoynl Highness 
on the want of protection to trade, by fhe merchants and . 
ship-owners of liverpool, Glasgow, Port Glasgow, Greenock, 
and London," was agreed to. The second, which was for 
" the weekly acconnts of. the state of the naval force under 
Sir Alexander Cochrane, on the American station," was ne- 
gatived. The third, which was for certain communications 
to the lA>rd Lieutenant of Ireland, " announcing the com- 
plete, or any restoration of tranquillity, in the only baroiiy of 
Ireland (that of Middlethird in the county of Tipperary,} to 
which it bad been thought necessary to apply the provisions 
of the bill in the last sessions, intituled, " An Act for the Pre- 
servQtion of the Peace," la introducing whicb motion, the 
noble lord expatiated oo the severe and Injurious nature of 
the bill in question, — was also neg^ved. When, on the 1st of 
December, 1614, the Earl of Liverpool moved theai^oum- 
ment of the House to the 9th of Februaiy, Lord Donoughmore . 
opposed the motion, in the exbdng critical conjuncture of public 
a£&irs ; observing, " that the noble earl seemed to think no 
business worth his attention but taxation; and that the mo- 
ment the supplies were granted, the candles were put out, the 
House was abuidoned to darkness, and looked more Uke an 
inquisition than a House of Parliament." 

On the 19th May, 1815, Lord Donoughmore again pres j 
sented the genera] petition of the Roman -Cadic^ics of Ir^and; 
and on the 8th of June lollomng moved the immediate 
refermce of the Catholic dtums to a committee of the whole 
House. This motion tiie noble earl pre&ced by an able 
al^u>i^^ not a long speech ; dividing his subject into four 



distinet bends; viz. first, the causes which caHed fot- the iin> 
mediate consideration of the (]ue6tion ; secondly) the nature 
of the relief that ought to be extended to the Catliolica ; 
thirdly, the character of the additional securiljes which were 
contended for a^ indispensable b; some very respectable 
members of both Houses of Parliament ; and, lastly, his 
reply to the argument that had been so often and so trium- 
phantly urged against the . consideration of the subject — 
namely, whether, in the present dissatisfied, and, as it was 
alleged to be, inflamed state of the Catholic body, it would 
be prudent to entertain the question. Towards the close of 
the discussion, the noble earl, in conformity to the opinion 
expressed by several noble lords, proposed as an amendment 
to liis own motion, " that the House should resolve into 
a committee upon the question at an early period of the 
next session." It can scarcely be necessary to add, that this 
tunended motion, like all the noble earl's former propositions 
on the same subject, was lost In the latter end of the same 
month, Lord Donoughmore took an acUve part in the Housd 
of Lords in opposition lo the East India Re^stry BiU; and 
in the course of the dbcussion on the Irish Spirits Cu^ Bill, 
in July* strongly pressed on. government and on t^e l^isla- 
tare an attention to the just ^Ifums of the Irish dis^lers. 

Not discouraged by bis frequent bilures. Lord Donou^- 
more, on the lltb of June, 1816, again presented the 
general petition of the Roman Catholics of Ireland, severd 
petitions from the Catholics of respective cotmties, and the 
petition of the Irish Catholic Bishops and Clergy, soggesting 
domestic nomination as an effectual security against any 
danger that might be apprehended from fbragn interferenoe ; 
and on the 21st of tlie same month, the noble earl moved s 
re&olntiiHi, pledging their lordships to take the subject into 
th«r most serious- consideration early in the next session; 
" Is not the situation of the Roman Catholics," asked the ' 
noble lord, " such as demands inquiry ? Can any thing 
exceed the glorious termination of the late contest? Can 
any thing exceed the high and commanding situation ini 



which this country has been placed ? Can any thing exceed. 
Dot o&ly wfatt we owe to die great general under whose 
auspices so much glory has been achieved, bnt to those who 
bare been the gallant though humble instruments of achieving 
it? Not "Hiose brave soldiers who toiled-'tbrongh the la-< 
tiguing miarch of war ought to receive a just recootpence in tt 
period of peace. Tlie blood of med of all religious persua^ 
sions has Sowed' in defence of the common interest ; and is 
it Feasonable, is it just, that any portion of them ^mXI be 
excluded from the exercise of constitutional rights ? If at 
former periods the Roman Catholics have been guilty t>f 
misdeeds, those of the present day have fillly earned th^ 
pardon. By the loyalty which they have maniftsted through- 
out the war, they have more than earned all that can be 
granted them." 

In 1917, we find the noble earl returning to the charge. 
Having, on the 8th of May, presented to the House, widi 
some accompanying observations, the general pe6tion of 'the' 
Irish Roman Catholics, and a petition from the Cadidics <^ 
WMtet^fon], he, on Uie 16th of the'same month, moved that 
the House should restive itself into a committee to^ consider 
die claims of the petidoners. " I now again," observed his 
lordship, " stand befbre you, the- selected, though inadequate 
advocate of all my CathtJic couhtiymen, of whatever rank 
«■ degree, ofithat great community of my felloW-^utgebtS,' 
daimii^ With respectfiil firmness, the restitution of their 
pdiiticri capacities ; — that dtey be admitted oiicb more witiiin 
die bosom of the constitation of their country i'* 'Hating 
^o^cified the insurmountable objections which he entertained 
t^-the veto^ or to the payment of the Catholic clergy by the 
state, t}te noble earl thus stated the meosure'he should pro- 
pose on that occasion : — " My measure is a direct and 
absolute domestic nomination. Having guarded the church 
l^ ^at noiiunation fiwm the small remainder Of foreign 
iafliience, having made the election by the choice of the 
prelates in that country purely national and domestic, my 
next step would be to create the closest connexion between 


the ' Roman Catholics and their Brotestant bvethren. I 
would throw open to the Roman C&tholics, under the Pror 
testant. goTemmenl;, every office, without excepdon of' any 
kind whatever, saving only endi instituticms aa' apperUtin 
to the government or patronage of the established church." 
The noUe eqrl then proceeded to reply at considwahle length 
to die arguments adduced by the (^ponenls of concession. 

To the Habeas Corpus Suspension Bill, Lord Donough- 
more, on the 19th of June 1817, gave Hd decided oppos»> 
tion; and in the succeeding month, he detailed his objections 
ba the Irish Grand Jury Presentments Bill, unsuccessfully 
moving as an amendment to the motion for the third reatfing 
of the . bill, " that it be read a third time that day three 

On the Sth of May 1819, Lord Donoughmore presented 
a number of petitions from the Roman CaduJics of Ireland'; 
and en the 17th of the same mouthy moved that the House 
sfaoilld reserve itself into a committee on die subject. Ihdis* 
position prevented the noble lord ^m addressing tfielr loid- 
sh^ at any- gteaf length u^n dn$ «cca«on. ** t -trost^'* 
said he, *' that, after all that has passed, aAd after the great 
1^4 v^ich has-recectly-befn thrown 'oa the mt^edv thig'«t39ef 
asked by the Rnnianf Catholios^will be grasted. Through thtf 
whole of my parlininentary life, I have earnestly and sinoerefy 
supported thtxr claims. It would be difficult for me to offer 
any new arguments in theirsuppOrt; bu&I think it would-be 
more difficult to. lOaitotahi* the converse of the problem, and 
^ow any good reason ibr their exclnsion from ^e benefit^ 
of die firee constitution which their fellow sul^ects have the 
happiness to enjoy." ' . : - ■ 

' On the 17th of December, 1819, Lord Donoughmore ob- 
jected to the Seditious Meetings Bill, generally, as a measure 
which, '* if it did not absolutely take away one of the most 
important lights of the people, certainly limited and narrowed 
it considerably, Investing in the ministers of the crown, or, 

at least, in those whom they appointed, the right of calling 
all public meedngs, which was the next thing to taking away 


tfiat great constitutional right altogether ;" and he especially 
protested against the extension of the measure to Ireland. ' 
On the SOth of December, when the bill was in a committee, 
the noble earl repeated his objection to the extension of its 
provisions to Ireland. In the same month the noble lord 
expressed his strong disapprobation of the Newspaper Stamp 
Duties Bill; decUring that "ministers hadwonnd tip to a 
b^py and appropriate conclusion, by that attack upon the 
freediHO of the press, those measures of indiscriminate co- 
ercion, that system of pains and penalties, which they had 
devised against a suffering and a prostrate people; and whidi 
had been carried into complete and unrelenting execuUon by 
ov^wheliping majorities in both Houses of Parliatnent." 

It is well-known, that on the return of her late Majesty to 
this country, ia 1830, certain papers respecting her conduct 
were communicated by govemusent to both Houses of Parlia' 
ment. When the Earl of Liverpool, on the 7lh of June 
18S0, moved to refer the consideration of those papers to &' 
secret committee, the motion wis *armly opposed by Lord 
HoUand and the Marquis of Lansidowne. Lord DtHioi^- 
more said, that" he could not allow the question to be put 
IH^M^ staluig Ae nature vS his opinion to the House, par^ 
tieultfiiy as. that option was at vuiance with the sentimehli 
(^ in^indOals with whom he bad long been in the habit'oF' 
acting «nd for whose motives and conduct he entertiuned tfae 
uncerest respect. Differing from those noble perswu, he 
felt that he ought (o distrust his own judgment ; but he 
could not consent to give up his opinion." The noble lord 
proceeded to argue in &vour of the reference of the papers 
to a secret committee : observing that " the Houses of Par- 
liament were merely called upon to advise the Crown whether, 
from any circumstances divulged by the papers before them, 
an ulterior proceeding would or would not be necessary. 
Was not such an arrangement calculated rather to shield the 
illustrious individual from judicial examination, than to de- 
serve the name of a criminatory measure ? The opinion 
which might be expressed by either House would not amount 



to aA imputation of guilt It would be merely a declaration, 
that the papers did or did not contain matter upon which 
further inquiry of some description woiikl be desirable." 
The next day, when the motion &>t proceeding to ballot for 
the committee was under discussion, Lord Bonoughmore 
^ain urged the eiqwdient^ of the proceeding. The ballot 
having taken place, the Eta\ of DcHiooghmore was reported 
as one of the members of the committee. ' 

During the subsequent proceedings on tlie Bill of Pains and 
Penalties ag^nst her Majes^, l^ord Donoughmore took an 
active part in the examination and cross^xamination of wit^ 
nesses ; and in the incidental discussion which thence arose. 
In the long and important debate whidi occurred on the 
motion for the second readmg of the bill, Ae noble lord 
expressed a very unequivocal cpioioa on the subject under 
consideration. Rising,, on the 9d of Novenriier 1810, imme- 
diately after Earl Harewood, who, although he allowed that 
he was by no mewis satisfied of the Queen's innocence, yet 
t^ontended that the ImH was an impolitae measure, Lord Do-' 
novghinDte asked, "what was the practical conclusion to 
which the luiMe -. earl proposed to bring the House ? If the- 
iUjistrious person was not umpcafit » the not^ earl'a tipi*' 
oion i. why did he not state what meaaure he would Headot^' 
m«nd io lieu of the bill? Were tfamr loidshii» to retmiqulsh, 
at once tl^ejr deU^r^|e yme upon so grave a sukgect to what 
the nc|U^ e«-I.w«s-pLe$(s^ to call the judgment of the public; 
but which might be more aptly denominated a slate of- 
popular violence and irritation ? To such a spirit of intem- 
perance be (X^rd Donoughmore) for one was not prepared 
to subnnC For the opinions of the English-people he feH- 
the greatest possible respect ; but he had at that moment a 
duty to perform, which^ he was not prepared to sacrifice to 
the cry which had been so industriously excited without those 
walls." The noble earl then, proceeded to examine the evi- 
dence in detail, declared his conviction, of the Queen's guilt, 
and strongly reprobated the condtict. oT her counsd, more 



e^)£aBUy in the obscrvfltiinn whuilt they had pemUbeA 
theUMlres to make upon His Majesty. - On the 7th of Mo^ 
fember* wbea the bill vaa in the oomDuttee, Lord DoDOU^t^ 
more supported the divocce danse. 

A iS^ tat the ^removal of the Catholic disabilities havii^^' 
in the session of ISSl, been pasced in the House of Comnwns, 
and brought to the House of Lords, Lord Donoughmore, on 
the 3d of April of that year, moved (as a matter of course) 
die first reading of the bill ; observing " that be was deeply 
impressed with a sense of the important sitDatJon in which he 
was placed, by bebg selected to advocate the claims of the 
Catholics in that house." On tlie 16th of April, the noble 
lord prefaced his modon for the second reading of the bill 
wUh a speech of grtat length and ability ; in which he de~ 
scribed the cruel and anomalous situation in which the' 
Bomon Catholics were placed, and urged the- necessity of 
grantJog them relief. Adverting to the unreserved opinion' 
which had been pronounced in bostUity to the measure by*- 
the I^rd Chanoeltor and the Earl of Livei^tool, Lord Do-^' 
Dou^^imore said, that " altttoagh the antbbritf of the' two: 
noble lords mm .doubtless vcny great, he had on authority as* 
b^ in.&vour of this bill '^-^thade^aon of the other House' 
of Fariidmenb He- would, therefore, only ask- as a boon,: 
that their IwxUtips would bonsider the bill inthe usnal'par- 
liamentary manner. He desired not to pledge them to thtf- 
whole, or to any part of the biil ; all that he required was, a' 
calm and temperate investigation of its merits. Wlio Were- 
the pers<Hia whose case the two noble lords treated se l^fatly,; 
4s to be of opinion that it did not deserve any ctmsidcaatjon at' 
all ? They composed one-fourth part of the whole population' 
of the United Kingdom; and four-fifUis of that port of; die^ 
empire to which be had the honour of belonging. Foffr> 
millions of loyal Irif^men — a body no less respectable for; 
their honourable and conscientioas feelings than for' their' 
number — noi^ demanded justice at their lordships' bar. 
They petJtiooed their lordships b> be heard; they called tor' 



ap e^mninfitipn of tjheir, cLoa^ii^.; and he lH^)ed they vOuU 
not bes^nt aw^ irit^ their prayer Tweeted, and their afftU- 
caUcHi tr^Ued with conteiiq)t aad insHlt." 
. Op ^« J^of July 1821, LordDoDoughmoriwas^created 
a peer of the: United Kii>g|doiQ, by the title of Viscognt Hut- 
^ingonj of Knocldc^y, cpiinty of Tipperory, with i%iMihid«; 
as ^fote stated- 

. Wbet) the Mai'quis of Lansdowne, on the Hth of- June 
1822, mofed a i-esolutiofi in the House of Lords, that the, 
^tfl of Ir^and required the -iniiqediate attention of pu-Uar^ 
meet, Irf>rd Donpughmore suppprted the moUcaj. ;On tbo: 
19tb of July in the same year, the noble Lord gave "hj«' 
i^ttcl^ot asiept" to the. Irish Insurreetion Bill, " as a tn&i:- 
sute of imperative necessity." ; 

We have now arrived at the last session of tiie Earl' of 
I>i»ioughiu4i*e*s.. laborious and patriobic parliamentary UEeJ 
Xd th« bcg^nifig, of the year 1825, contrary to the advice and' 
VJsheaof hjs faoiily and friends, the noble Lord hurried to 
Lcmdw in aviery weak state of he^th, <^iic^ eoore to obey th& 
call' of the. Koinan Catfaolicj of. Ireland. On the very fiviti 
day of the;sesj»(xi>.the Sd of Febniai? U)2fi, he declared thei 
pain, which he felt at the passage of Hia : Majesty's speech,' 
vrhich. related to the Ronum Catholic part of the oommunityr 
in Ireland. His Lordship deprecatu^ in. the dten trantpiil 
state of that country any recourse to measures -of coercion,, 
and maintained, not only that the Catholic Association had 
produced no evil, but that it had effected much good. 

On the 24'th of F^ruary ISSJf, Lord Donoughmore pre- 
sented the Petition of the Bomaa Catholics of Ireland, " the. 
value of whose confidence," the noble Earl said, " he fullyj 
appreciated;" and he accompanied the presentattcai with a: 
few powerful remarks on the expediency of restoring to tbe- 
petitwners tiieir ri^^; andim eulo^um on the. conduct ot* 
Marquis Wellesley, in the vice-r^^ government. > 

The bill for the relief of the Rouian Catholics havii^ beeo. 
passed in the House of Commons^ and. brought to the Housei 
of Loitls, — on the 11th of May, 1825,, on the molJoo of the 



Earl of Donoughmore, it was read a first time ; tEe noUe Lord 
taking the oppcHtiiiiity to observe, th^ " bis Ca^olic fellow- 
subjects having long done him the htfflour to place their 
petiti<x>s in his bands, and make him the me£am of com- 
municating their grieraaces, he could not but feel the greatest 
satisfaction, (the sincerity of which feeling he knew would be 
allowed by every noble Lord,) at welcoming from the other 
House of Parliament a bill which was a s^^nal proof of jus- 
tice, and of a growing spirit of conciliation." On the 18th of 
May, 18S5i liord Sonoughmore moved that the bill be read 
a second time ; but was too much indisposed to take a part in 
die long and animated debate on that question; the resolt of 
which it is scarcely necessary to add was, that the bill was 
thrown out. 

On the 21st of May, a namerously attended meeting of the 
Roman Catholics of England and Irdand, was hdd ' at the 
Crown and Anchor Tavern, the Duke of Norfolk in the chair. 
The first resolution, which was proposed and carried was a 
vote of thanks to the advocates of the Catholic cause, in both 
Houses of Parliament. Lord Donoughmore, who had left 
the bed of sickness to be present at the meeting, was loudly 
called upon; and notwitbstanding the bodily debHity under 
which he was labouring, rose to address the noble Chairman. 
He said, " that in obejong the call which had just been made 
upon him, be begged, in returning his thanks to the meeting 
for the compliment which they had paid him, to applaud the 
spirit and determination with which they announced their 
intention to persevere in the attainment of their just ti^ts. 
H^ felt no common interest in the success of their cause — it 
was bequeathed to him as an inheritance; for his father was 
the first man in the empire who had ventured to raise hts' 
voice even for a sliglit emancipation of his Catholic fellow- 
oountiymen. Being thus from his birth attached to their 
cause — believing it to be inseparably connected with the great 
cause, of civil and religious liberty — through all the vicissitudes 
of their struggle he had hitherto been through life, and he' 
would remain to the close of life, their titeady and UQolterabie' 



trirocate. He tfaereTore bailed with fervour the spirit wtm^ 
tkcy manifested upon the preseilt occasion, and wfcich, he had 
no doabt* irould evmtuslly overcome the obstinacy that slilt' 
resisted die justice and policy of concession." 

Lwd Donoughmore was mainly assisting in bringing to- 
gether the sixty-^iine peers, whose resolutions, agreed to at 
the house of his grace the Duke of Buckingham, b« wi(s 
afterwards die chief instrument of publishing; — thus, as if 
weref on bis death-bed, leavii^ the Catht^ic t^use suppMted' 
by a scdemn league and covenant, which boi% the signatured 
of nuiDy of the greatest and most illustrious names in the- 
Britisb peerage, standing pledged to its prindples. 

From that period, the noble Earl rapidly declined ; and OH' 
the SSd of August, 1835, he died at the house of his brother, 
Lord Hutcfahtaon, (now Earl of Donoughmore,) in Bnls^-ode- 
street, Manchester-stpiMre, aged sixty-nine. 
• By die death of I^ird Donoughmore, Irdand lost a most 
devoted &iend; the Roman Catholics, a daundess advocate 
die iat^;istracy, an able and incorruptible judge ; his tenantry, 
a kind and indulgent landlord ; and his femily, a pon*erfiil 
and most affectionate member. He will long be remembered 
byhis country; and more especially by die coun^ which, 
unlike the nu^ority of the Irish aristocracy, be made the prin- 
cipal seat of hb residence throughout life. By his mingled 
activi^ and moderation, he kept all tranquil in his neighbour- 
hoddi without any departure from constitutional principh 
and- tt. neVei' became necessary to visit his -barony with the 
iliBEctions of the Peace Preservation, or the Insurrection act 

At an open meethig of the general committee of the British' 
Cathtdtc Assooation, held at the Crown and Anchor Tavern, 
8b«nd',i on the 10th of November, 1825, after a resolution had 
ISMUt carried exprdisive at the warmest acknowledgments of 
&ti nteetjng (o the sixty-nine peers, for the resolutions adi^ted 
by them' at die residence of his grace the Duke-of Bucbfng- 
Kam, fh(! BeV. Dr. Collins rose and addressed' the meieting to^ 
the ^£<^ing dfeet : 

*< As a member of the committee, and in accordance with 
vol- X, n » 



(heir feelings, I coine fonranl to pix>po9e a resolation for jodr 
'ddt^tiOii. ' I am sorry to say that this resolution is one more 
of lamentadon than of thanks. Since our last meeting we 
have lost a distinguished friend, who was styled the * here- 
ditary advocate'* of the Catholic claims by general consult. 
' Uliat great man fully justified the appellation by a life b^un 
in your service, and marked in its progress by a fervent zeal 
which never abandoned him. With some difficulty, and after 
some struggling, I have acquired courage to name him. He was 
my personal friend, whom I valued for his private worth, and 
sespected for his public conduct. I shall not obtrude my 
"private sorrows on the meeting when I am engaged in a pub- 
lic Cause, although I am sure no man could blame me for my 
i^al;lUity to extinguish the operation of those feelings which 
all are proud to confess towards those to whom they are bonnd 
by sentiments of friendship and gratitude. 

"Cure levesloquuntuf;— ingentes tacent" 

But I will name iiim — we have lost the Eai\ of Donougfa- 
more. His distinguished father, Hely Hutchinson, came for- 
ward in defence of the Catholics at a time when no man dared 
oppose the cruel and unnatural code then in existence witb- 
. out danger to his fortunes, and destruction to his prospects. 
In the present times there is little comparative merit in the 
advocacy of our claims. The cause is in itself so just and sot 
glaringly patriotic, and so thoroughly interwoven with the 
very essence and first principles of the constitution, that there 
is no honest man that is not ashamed not to support it. There 
may be some dark bigot who can never rise beyond the rot- 
tenness which gave him birth, or some ambitious ignorant 
fool, who hopes to win his way to the favour of some persons 
by persecuting his fellow-creatui'eSj and the^ may still form 
exceptions to the generalliberality of the age : but at the time 
when Hely Hutchinson came forward to support us, tiie bulk 
of the people were as iniquitously adverse to our claims as a 
few obscure individuals are now. Then there was a high de- 
gree of merit in standing by its. In some time afterwards, when 



Hely HutcltinEon died, and . the .mother of Lord Donough- 
more. had also departed this life, the Catholics of Ireland 
presented an address to the late Lord Donpughmote, congra- 
tulating him upon his accession to hb family honours and 
distinction^. His an§wer was, that in whatever estimation 
pet^le might hold honours and rank, he .valued none of them 
so highly as beuig styled the hereditary defender of the rights 
of his countrymen. In fact, the life of Lord Donoughniore 
w-as an abrkigment of patriotism, ibr his views were inces- 
santly devoted to tlie service of his country. At one period 
in his country's history, when an attempt was made, to .crush 
the right of petitioning ; when public courage seemed to have 
lost its energy, and public wisdom to have forgotten its in- 
spintion ; whea the storm was raging, and the vessel goii^ 
. down — the enemy bearing upon it with all their fury -~ and 
all hands seemed to have des)}aired ; at that eventful mouveut, 
the late Lord DqnDughmore, who was, in fact, but a pas- 
senger on board, was the first who had the courage to naU 
the colours to the mast. Not alone was tib life devoted to 
your service — he died in defence of your canse to Uie l^ler. 
When he was about to come over the last tinje, he was-told 
by the physicians attending and all his near relations, that 
the journey would be his death. - His answer was, ' I can 
meet no death so honourable or -so agreeable.' His very last 
' effi>rt on our behalf was made within these walls. At that 
.time I, as an intimate friend, ventured to advise him not to 
go abroad, but he rejected the advice, and you must all re< 
member his last exertion — his speech on that day must ever 
live in your recollection. With shattered frame -— his physi- 
cal powers quite exhausted, he went into the country, and 
surrendered himself in quietness and resignation to the will of 
his Maker. A short time before his death he wrote me a 
note, requesting me not to forget to have the resolutions of 
the peers published, and adding, that there were twelve other 
noble friends of ours who were anxious to have their names 
' added to the honourable list. Thus it was that he justified 
the appellation of ' hereditary advo<»,te of the Catholic daims.' 
D D 2 



liis life began in youV stiiiriee, was <ledicifted wiAoot iitta^ 
hiptldn to promote otir causei and he died in its sap^xtft. ^11 
I, fbfin, iiskingt66 much, when I solidi your SUf^rt to dil* 
resulntion; noinety, ' That we deeply lameht thef death of the 
tate Earl of DonoughAtore, as a calamity to the Catholic aaisi ; 
thai the tide of its ' here^tary adtocate,' givot to biiO bf 
^baet^ consent, has been ftdly justified by his adUereace to 
the Mim of Ctftfcolic politics adopted b^ hi^ ancest^Mfs, in dnMis 
of the tnt&t Violent prejudices and opposition ; and by a pei<- 
serer^ ^eal and firnitiess iii support of our just cldinM* Wbl(^ 
ndt Ofiiy ^tdtes otii- present feelitigs, bu^ must secure' thfe 
gtWiefiil t«mrailbTahc« of Catbonc posf^^. This Oilr r^gKf, 
bbWevdr, is softened, if r^ret at such a loss be susce[ttibte 0f 
nwdlficatiMi, by a knowledge that the spirit lives and gbvenis 
in onr respect every surviving member Of his fionily/" 

The r^tution was se<!onded by Mr. Witham, and cai'ried 
uliflnlniDuEly ; as Was also a Subsequent restdution, " Hiat a 
l«Iter of cODdoleOce, with a copy of the above resoIntioD, be 
thmsmitted to the Ea^l of t)(Hiioug^iiKrt^ bt tbti attWe ofl&fe 
Bi^sh t:;atfioliiM.'* 

*' Debrettfs Peerage," the ** Roya^ Military Calendar/' the 
** Parliamentaiy Debates," the Irish and London newspaper^ 
and some valuable communications from a nekr coiinecticM 
of Ae deceased nobleman, are the sources wheiice this m^ 
■noir faiu been derived. 





1, of Need- 

Iwa M>rkM 

Dec 15, 

)B%lt inhU76Ui 


.war (WW of the 

f Friend.. 

t(4 1014 iHutlc a 

B f>iim Ibe 


,hi* tvie awt ia 


fare 9f tin NCto 


on. ivember. Jlispu™ 


nt ua^tlon. 

.wliifh did not iaurTere Kith bh raligious 

:«™pl,«. HUdurity 

for tboK «bo 

differed from him ia Km 


Dr. Andrewvf, i 
wu edurated u 
wberc he wu eleci 
and vhence be w 
'IVinity Collie, I 
He proceeded B.j 
S.TP. 1B07. Ii 
Wesimiiukr as a 



aiid sucli he eoucinued till 1784, One 
of hk lirst clerical dutici was tliat of rh 
occisianal AsniUnt Preacher nt Sl. 
JJridt'B, Fleet.Suvet; he was artorii'arili 
engaged al Si, James's Cliipel, in Ihe 
IIiun|i3teail Road. In 1780, wtien lli'j 
friend Sir Edm^ Cradocli Hartupp 
uned Hj^li SberilFpr Letc^Kersliire, 
Mr. Andreires acted as his Chaplain. 
In lT8li1i6 was preseafed by LiA-d 
whose tutor he Itad been, 

the traaglation of ffidiop Sparke, he 
waB offered, by Lord Liverpool, the 
Bidiopric of Chenter, but dMlined on 
thepiea of Us advancing yean. 
■ Enjoying Tlgour of talent and roa- 
luiity of eiperieoce, alike estimable 
for wundnesn of doctrine and purily 
of living, Dean Andrewei was justly 
considered one of the most aminetit 
jr HTclesiastical establish' 

a. Devon 

, he B 

.niled < 

Elizabeth Maria, daughU'rof the Itev. 
ITios, Ball, Rector of Wymondhftm, 
Leic. ; by ihi^ marriage he had three 
'daughters, the eldest of whom was 
married to a son of Jcdin Baker, Esq. 
foHnecly M. 1'. for Canterbury, the 
second died an infiuil, and the third 
died uiiinai ried ; his youngest child 
and only son mairied a daughter of Dr. 

In 1791 he iva<i chosen altcrnale 
Evening Preacher at the Magdalen ; 
and in 1799 at the Foundling Hos. 

" In the pulpit he was argumentative 
but not impassioned, conclusive but 
111)1 eloquent, a good rntlier than a great 
preacher. He was ofifti striking, but 
seldom moving. All tliat human in- 
formation suggests or human ingenuity 
can devise, in aid of truth elucidatory, 
or confirmatory, presenled itself readily 
to his minil, and was impressed by him 
on the minds of his hearers. He wtt 
therefore fond of illustrating the evi- 
dences of religion ; and of enforcing, 
from motives of propriety or expedi- 
eiu^y, the practice of the moral duties. 
Sometimes he rose into considerable 
animation ; and he uniformly secured 
attention." In all the relations of 

the doctrines it nas bis anxious en- 
deavour to instil ; while the closing 
scene \vas one which best evinced the 
excellence and sincerity of his lift and 
manners^ and hit linn reliance on a, 
future stale of never-ending reward. 

' His remains were interred in a vault 
at Great Bookbam, In Surrey; those 
of his wife and daughter were removed 
thither from St, James's early on tbe 
day of h!s funeral. The hearte with 
his own corpse thilowed AOut dfht 
o'clock. Tlie prinnpol sbt^s in the 

' parish icere closed, from respect to Ins 

Tlie above sketch of Dr. Andrewert 
life we have extracted from " Tilt Gat- 
ilrman.'! Magnsinf. " The fbllcning is 
his character as delineated in a aurrmia 
preached after Mj funeral by the Re*. 
Edward Ilet>lon, A . M. at St. FbiHp's 
Chapel, R^etit Street; on Sunday, 


, IS'JS. 

'■'' In ifianners gentle and concili. 
liting ; in temper cheerful, etjual ; in 
domestic lift a ptattical eshottation to 
his children, a living pattern to bis de- 
pendants. To all men kind and cotk 
siderate; ever i^dyto listen to theule 
of sorrow, prompt attd unhesitating '(9 
retIeTeit;-libeiBl-wllheutoE(«itacion ; 
diai^ble without reproof. Strict and 
tin^ in his sense of rcH 


BIOGRAPHICAL D(D£X 7dX 1825. 407 

SioUB dutin, though a itracgn to the bat w we are ■llowcd of GeAto b* puc 
uanatonl f^oma at AnMidsm ; vbua- in tnul with tfie Gospel, Meik to we 
niu^ the duuptdoTu uid Tuiititn of apeak ; not m plcasiiig men, but God, 

On world, but erer rqmcing in the irtiich (Heth our burte. Fornellfaer it 

jof of oUiNB, and thwfng nrhh cberr. any lima uwd »a flattering wards, a* Je 
blnctt tlw racial amuiemciiti of know, nor ■ clDkcoTcorMouitUu, Ood 

'«'*tr. i» witnew : nor of men mught we glorj, 

" Such mu tbii good man in pftrale neither of you, nor yet of other*. ' 
lifb, and llie; who kpew bim beat, will " It was under incli conviclioTi u 
Loawtbat I have not pwBsedtheboDnd. Ihi«, that the instructor «t have loit, 
ariea of tralb. But hi« public' life b could rejoice in tbe teatimony of hii con- 
knewn to all. Hii leal— hi« eameat- adence, which Temindcd him of tile 
n«B— hissiniplicity^riaunafiicledand ' aimplicity and aincaritj' of bia earthfy 
peculiarl]' impieaaive tnanner need no conieraation — ilwaa under ancb cob. 
comment. Yon bare heard him, you viction as that, tliat he could Icxik tor- 
cm bear witncas to them^you have ward to the change which hourly be 
felt tbeir pawerupoo yourhearta. May ei peeled, with humble but fearleu Te- 
their influence be testified in your lives ! signstion. 

" In dnclrinit as in life, lie »aa the " Seldom, indeed, can »e e»pect lo 

same — followed, coui-t«l, prwaed 1o a meet with no iiiF^tructive a lea&on of 

degrre aluiaat unprecedented and iiii- piety and holy hope, as was eieuiplified 

eijualled, he seemed, u> it were, uncon. in the calm composure of thia go6d 

sdous of the Toice of flntiery ; aiming Christian ; seldom may we h(^ to wit. 

solely to impreia upon his hearers Ihoae neaa ao beautiful a acaue, as tbat wUch 

great trudia, which formed the basis of closed his earthly labours, 

his own belief and practice. For a long " Happy, Cbeeiful, animated bejAmd 

period his effective powers were exerted bis gradually decaying strength, he auf- 

in behalf of two * public institutions, fered not the cloud of despondency in 

which, for tlie benerolenca of their de- those around hiro lo overctat the briglit- 

sign, and the extrnsiveneaa of thuir be- nesa of hia hopes ! — liut confirmed their 

nefit, rank amongst the foremost in firmness, and cheered their painful an- 

tbis great centre of national philan. ticipations. 

thropy, TTiey who had no earlbly pa- " In him hii parochial charge has losB 
rent to nourish and protect them, found a lealoua and a coitscientioua pastm^. 
in him a spiritual father, whocoadiicted In him the church lus lost one of hs, 
them tu the knowledge of their God. brightest ornnments ; and they who 
And die who had sought refuge from knew him aa I knew him, hare lost in 
the perfidy and scorn of man, in the ru- him a counsellor, a guide, atViend. 
treat of penitence and reformation, was " But he ia gone to reueive the re- 
Encouraged by his aoothing aasuTances compence of a well-spent life ; we wUt 
of reconciliation with her God, and not sorrow then 'as men withoBthopo," 
confirmed in the renewal of her soul. but rejoice rather in the full aunrance 
"Called by a dhceroing patron from of his apirltual triumph — and diat 
tbcsearid other duties still more arduous, throtjgh the merita of his^edeemer, fala 
to the char^ of Ihis eitendve parish, own imperfect serrices will entitle him 
hii ihfnUtry among you was conspi- to the glorious re^'aid of ■ tliem that 
cuous, IVnm its commencement to its die in the ImiA.' '" 
close, for the sttiet discharge oTall its ARLISS, Mr.John,in Gutter Lane, 
vatioiu duties. No one was left unful- Cfaeapside. Mr. Arliss was celebrated 
flRed, and each was conscientiously per- as one of the mott elegant prihten of 
fbrrocd aa it became ■ fUdiful minister his time. He likewise posaessed con- 
of Christ. aiderable taate in embellishing juTCnile 
" In the langqage of St. Paul to the works with wood engnwings, and in 
TbessalouiaDS, we &Te a chancier which aonjunction with Mr. Whitlinghatp, 
you will recogniie; 'For yourselves may be ssid lo have largely contributed 
know; brethren (says the Apoatlej, that to the revival of that lieauiifut art. A 
€nir entrance in unto jou was not in few year* since, when residing in New- 
Tain.' For oor exhortation was not of gate Street, he established die PMhea 
decat,norof undeannesB, nor in guile; Migaiine, which attained, and atill en- 

: . joys, a large circulation. Besides his 

• The ' Foundling and Magdalen concern in Newgs» Street, he had pne- 

Chjriti,,. • viouily been engaged in busintss in 



BALCARRAS, the Ri'ifht Hon. 
Alexander. Ltodnif, ninth Earl of, 
CO. Eife, wTtnih Lord Liuduj, of 
.Cimmam^i pus ,<>r ths 9ixtf;eD te- 

preKnUtire pw»rfjScptl»pd,.».gwwf»l 
Bod cohwel of. tbi' 6^ rt^im^it uf 
foot ; March S7 ; at |iu >e«I, 'Biu^ii HmII, 
Lancaibiret aged T^. 

He wiaborn in 1T5S, tbceldeslson 
orJaiiie*UH! fifth Anne.daugb- 
tcr gf Kt Robeit I>ll)7inple of Cutl^ 
tan, Knt.' He succeeded hi* falhra- i* 
F^iTtury, 1 767, and ba!ng of a militsry 
family and diipoaiiion, entered the anny 
.on tlie fifUi cf July in Chat ytar as en- 
sign of 534 ioot, which regiment he 
jmned M Gibraltar imqiediately afiier, 
Hislordihip obtained tHpyeaisleateejr 
abaence W. travel en the ctMitinait; was 
alkwed to fmtt over the tf ;ik of lieu. 
WDaof, and was appcanted to a conpao)' 
in Iba 4S4. Jan. SS, ITTl, and to a 
lM0aii(;.iD ti)e 53d, Dec B, 1775. H« 
MTTid three Jeajf in Canada and North 
.^Atnenva, undar the late Generals Sir 
Guy Coiltoi) and Buigoynai waa pre. 
•ent at the action of Tnm AeTieiu, 
iw. !< 1T7G; cotanunded the light 
infaotiy of the onnynt Tkonderoga and 
Hugfabtfton, July 7, 1777i..alsa at 
frefiqw'a i'aito, Sept. 19, pa tba 
he^hla of Siiatoga and FieeiBaii'a 
FaRil>with the voina>aftA of the advanced 
^orpt of the. anW' Brigadier- OanerfJ 
Ftwer being killed, in the action of tba 
Tlh of October. The fith of OctoM 
bil lordship vtas apptunted liculenuit- 
c^knal of ^« 34th foot, vihicb r^meiu 
ha eccwDpanied to the ini«rior t>f the 
ccimtry, i,( bavuD^ b^n included in the 
conTCution of SoiatQga. On llie death 
*f Ijeulenant- General l-'raser, th« 71s| 
S3 . 




iuai Bakwrtu 700 gaimM forte piin- 
chuc of ■ aword. During Hi mklcnce 
he iNicdMied MHn* [lluilation property. 
The nnk of llnilnuuil-fteneral wu cod- 
feiTidaahhkmlaliipJaii.l,lT9e. Tha 
-pcriMl of hii oDBtiBdanM onthecufrui 
the Wnt Ipdin was ai jttn aod oiac 
montbi ; Mill be wu mItuiomI to tbc 
nsk of general, Sept. 29, I8D3. 

On ttw tilh of May, Uttl* man than 
a noDth after the earl'i &cea«e, diefl 
I^f Ana Bollard, hia hwdiliip'* eldeM 
■liter, beiBg the firat child of the 5tb 
•arL She was bum Dec 8, 1750, 
and mu married in OcL 1793, to the 
late Audrew Bernard, Eiq., leiTetary 
to tbe colonjr of tlie Cape of 6ood Hope, 
and mxrf TbonMa Bernard, D.D. 
Bubop of Limerick. She expirej ■'^ ■ 
protracted iUneia, at her house in Beriw- 
ley Square. — 3** Ssyat UiUlary Co- 
imdar and Genllanan'i ilagasirie, 

BOGUE, the Rev. Darid, D.D. 
of Guiport ; Oct. 84 ,- after a few days' 
illness at tbe house of the Re>. J. N. 
Goulty, Brighton ; In bit 7Tth j-ear. Dr. 
Bi^e was iiniTemltjr eileamed, and is 
donrcdljrlanented. Hebadbeeoahout 
50 years pastor of the dnu<eb of Fro- 
iMant D ii a n iit e ia at GoqHvt, was tutor 
of the Uiaiionary Semioary, and one of 
tbe first promoters of tin London Miv 
aioaary Society. On Tuesday, Nor, I, 
tin remaiaa of Dr. Bogue were rimoved 
frooi Briahcoa to Goaport, attended by 
• d«p)il»tw of tbe London Miiuooary 
Sodety, and many olltarfrieada. Marks 
at raapMt fcr hia maioory vete mani. 
, feated by tbe inhahalami of Brighton, 
aad of tbe sarenl towns through wbtcb 
the procession passed. At Farsbam, 
iIm deaoons' and tnutta of tlie cbspri 
JB irtiiditlie deceased oflkialed, joined 
the proessaioa tn tamniiBg eoedtes, and 
■meril print* iarrfagea followed in their 
Mibi ; about a nrile from Goaper^ tbe 
body was recoind by the churdi and 
iMUgngMioD o«er whidi Uie deeeaaed 
bad pnaided; as wall as {ly tiie students 
df tllc sentnai7 UDder his care ; by Yrfaom 
it was coitdusted to tbe Tenry-room ad- 
joining tbelndependentCIi^el in Gos- 
pert, wbera it was dejioaited for tbe 
night. On the fottovring morning, tbe 

iata Iht cbapel, of winch be had been 
minister naariy half a centurf, when a 
funeral oration was deliTtrsd by the 
Rot. John GtMtn, of Pottsea, to a 
crowded auditory. At twdve o'clodt 
tlie funeral invceaaion moved towards 
Alveratoke, and on reocbing the new 

burial ground, ifaeiAineral service ww 
read by the Hev. tifory Aubrey Veck. 
and tiie proacssian iMurned in tlte stine 
(tfder t^ it came. In the ereidng x 
fiineral sermoa was preached hj tbe 
Rer. Dr. Winter, niten Ibe chapel was 
crowded to eiccn, and multitudes were 
prenoted from gaining adoiiBsian. Dur- 
ing the day tin shops and house; of tlie 
inhabitants were closed, and all seemed 
desirous of eipieasing titeir este<m and 
nneratiou tor tlie mtmory of tbe de- 
ceased. His loss wilt be as dpeply and 
as extensively f«]t amongst diisetnUn 
as tbst, perhaps, of any man of his d«jr. 
He was me of iliose men who ctwlri- 
buted greatly to iafluenoe Ibe charaqtar 
of tlie public mind. — Gmtteman't it"- 

BROWNE, William, Esg. ; SOth 
July, in John titreei, Fitiroy Square ; 
in the 7Ttb year afhisage. His talents 
ai B gem engraver will hand down liia 
name, in conjunoion with Mareh»nt 
and Burch, to ibe latest posterity: his 
universal pliilautbropy, bis unaifacted 
kindnesB and intriniic worth, will be 
ever remembered by his family and 
tiieads, to whom his dtvtfa ia a source 
of the roost aim.'erc sorrow. In early 
life, Mr. Browne a^ye<l tiie patronage 
of the EmptBss Catherine of Russia, 
and had an unlimited order for ber ca- 
binet, in which the principal part af hi* 
works are deposited. The Fmncti revo- 
lution having obliged him to quit Paris, 
where he was mucb pammiied by the 
court of Louis XVI., be retunted to 
£ngUnd, to find his tavoiiiite art ne- 
glected and forgotten, except where the 
ingenuity of It^ian artists could extract 
irom bis wealthy countrymen immenae 
sums, for modem antiquas, and ipurious 
specimens of Greek at Roman work- 
manship. Of Burch and Marciiaat, (l» 
focnser had shdtaivd himself in tlic 
Royal Academy, of which lie was ap- 
pcHtitedlibrarisni Ibe latter had acct^tcd 
a plaa in tbe SMiop OBioe, as an en- 
grarer of alamps. Under these dis- 
ancea, Mr. Bniwne 
stilJ prosecuted his art, and engiaved a 
Msiea of portraits of illustrious parsons 
of Great Britain ; a part of which are 
in the possession of His M^esty. Hu 
last great worif was a cameo or audonya, 
for tbe lid of the box presented by Ibe 
Light Horse Volunteers to Col. Her- 
ries. — Manthfy Ma/iitisiyie. 

BURNE, Lieutenant General Ro- 
bert, at Berkeley Cottage, Staonuxe. 
He entered the fimy in ITT'J, by fiu- 



icAL jmivx. rOK 1825. 

efaasing an enugnn in At 36th rcp- 
mcnt; and iajMAr^lTTT, obtutM^ 
i Ikutcnanc]' alio )^ purahue. Id 
17R3, tbe S61J1 reghnent vdunteered iti 
servicH for the Eut Indies, and this 
officer embarked witli ii, a»d landed al 
Madras in Jut; of tliat year. In 1TR4 
he succeeded to the captain lieutenancy, 
and on the 7th of Mayof lhe«aniG year, 
was appointed oiptain of a companjj 
-•Tld upon the 'army t^ing (he field 
againat the late Tippoo Sultaun, lie wa.^ 
iraptain of grenadiers. He nas in the 
battles of Sattimunguluin and Showre, 
irich a detachment of the army com. 
manded by General Floyd, and was 
oflerwards at the (tarming of Bangalore, 
Pettah, the forLof ^galore, the Hill 
fort of Nuodydnwg, at tlie battle of 
SeringapataiD , the attack uf the pom at 
Cirrigatt Hill, and al tbe storming of 
tho End Gaw redonbt (part of tbe linw 
before Seringapalam], onder the late 
Maiquis Comwallis, and in 1T93 be 
was at the tiege and rapture of Pondi- 



pointed major by 
purchased a majority in the regimeiit. 
Jan. 1, 179S, he was appointtd lieu- 
tenanUcolouel by btereti and in the 
ume year tbe 36ih was drafted into the 
7Sth regiment, and tbe non-commis- 
aioned officers, drummers, &c. under 
-the command of this ofllcer, sailed from 
Madras, and landedin England in 1799. 
Au order was issued by (lie governor 
in coun^l, and commafider-in-K:hief of 
iladras, on tbe S6tb regiment quitting 
India, where it hod served upwards of 
fifteen years, highly complimentary 10 
Ivietttenanl-calonel Burne and bis brave 

In 1 799 he was promoted to tlie lieu. 
lenant.colonelcy of tbe regiment, and 
won after its arrival in England it was 
coD^eted with volunteers from Ilie mi- 
litia, and in leoo'embarked with the 
troops destined, as was supposed, for 
the attack upon Selleiile ; and after 
brang enc;m)ped upon tbe iiland of 
Howas. some weeks, he re-embaiked 
with tbe regiment, uid lauded in the 
Island of Minorca; from which island 
he, in 1801, from severe illness, was 
tntlered to England for the recovery of 
his health {being the first time he was 
ever absent from the regiment), and 
uptm the conclusion of the peace, tbe 
Island being restored to tbe Spaniards, 
be was ordered to remain in England 
until the arrival of the regitneni at home, 
when, in the laller pari of 180S, he 

of it on il* 
anival in Ireland. 

In itIOS be embarked with the regi' 
tnenl for Germany ; and upon ilw ttr- 
mination of the tervice in that country 
in 1806, relumed to England. lu the 
loiter part of the same year, he em- 
-barked with the regiment on the eipe. ■ 
dition to South America, under tbe late 
Major General Crawford ; and in June 
1 807 landed in lliat country, and was 
with the advance of the army at the 
operations in the suburbs of ^enoa 
Ayres on tbe 2d, 3d, 4th, aod-tbe attack 
on tbe town of BueniM Ayres on the 
6th of July. 

Theregimentretumedhomcin 180V, 
and An ihe 1251b of April 1808, this 
olHcer was appointed colonel by breveU 
In July of Ihe same year be embarkeil 
with the army destined fur the Penbi- 
sula, commanded by %r Arthur Wel- 
lesly, landed in Portugal, and was pre. 
scut at tlie bottles of Roluia and Vimiero, 
where be greatly disdnguisbed himself. 
He was riiortly afterwards hotraured by 
His Majesty with the government of 
Carlisle. After these seriices, this of- 
ficer proceeded in command of the re- 
giment with thai party dextlned to join 
Uie late Sir John Muore at Salamanca 

thearmvfor England in 1809. Forbid 
services' at Itoleia, Vimien, and Co- 
runna, he received the lionocary distioc- 
tion of a medal and clasp. 
' In 1810 he embarked witli the ei|ie- 
diton to the Scheldt, commanded (he 
regiment at tbe siege, and capture of 
Flushing in the island of Walclieren, 
wa.^ after wards appointed colonel on the 
hUff at that place, wlicre he continued 
until tbe evacuation of iheisland. In 
1811 he was appmnted a brigadier on 
the tUffin Portugal, and in ^at coun- 
try nubscquenlty u major-general, and 
landed there prior to the retreat of (he 
French army from Santarem, and was 
present at the battle of Fuente* D'Onor 
in Spain, and the utiier operations in 
which thesisih division of (bo army was 
engaged, until recalled u> he employed 

Upon his return to England, he was 
appointed on Ihe home slaD', and was 
urdered to take the command of Ibq 
camp near Lichfield. Upon the break- 
ing up of (bat enounpmeal, he wot 
ordered (otiiecommaodof (be Nottiug- 

icl, »ber 
stall' until September ^4, 1B14. 



c FOR less. 


Lieulenant-gcneral Burnecoininani]- 
«d (be SGlh regiment thnn the yur 1 793, 
until hjs appointment upon the BtalT in 
1811 ; and greater unanimity (so ecsen- 
tlol to disdpjinej never prerailed in noy 
corps 1 as some proof of fvhicti, the of- 
ticeis who served under him in South 

country, Toted and presented him with 
a sword and belt of the value of 130 
guineas. — Royal MUitary Calendar. 

CAMPBELL, Lieutenant General 
Sir Alexander, Bart., K.C.B.,at Fort 
St. George, 1 1th December 1 824, in the 
6Sth year of his age. This highly dis- 
tinguished officer was Ihe fourtli son of 
John Campbell, of Baieed, in Pertli- 
shire, by Isaliella, daughter of John 
Camplieil, of Barcaldine. He entered 
the service in the year 1776, as an en- 
sign, by purchase, in the first battalion 
of Ihe Royal Scots, and was promoted 
to a lieutenDney in 1776. In ITSO he 
purchased a company in the 97th regi. 
ment ; and in (he course of that year he 
nerved on hoard a 90-gun ship, tielong- 
ing (0 (he grand channel fleet under 
Admiral Darby, in command of three 
companies of bis regiment. In 1781, 
the 97th was landed at Gibraltar, where 
he conmiandcd (he light company dur- 
ing the remainder of the uege, and was 
aiding in the destruction of the enemy's 
floating batteries. 

At (he peace of na.t he was placed 
on balf-pay. He continued in that 
^tuatioa till 1T87, when he was ap- 
pointed to the 74th regi menT, (hen form- 
ing fbr service in the East Indies, and 
for which he raised nearly 500 men. 
In this distinguished corps, in which he 
served two and twenty years, (fifteen of 
lliein in India,) his two sons and three 
of his nephews were slain in action ; 
and on his leaving it be was ihe only 
individual who belonged to it at its 
formatioii in 1TS7. 

In the year 1793 he went to India. 
In 1794 he was ^)pointed brigade- 
major la the king's troops on (he coast 
of Coronumdel, and subsequendy, in 
ttie same year, selected by Lord Hobart, 
governor of Madias, for the civil, judi- 
cial, and milita^ charge of (he settle- 
ment and fort of Pondicherry, recently 
conquered from the French, and was 
honored with the expression of tbc en- 

tire approbation of goTenunent toi hia 

After serving tii(«n years as a cap-." 
tain, he succeeded, in (he year 1795, to 
the m^orily and lieotenant-coionelcy of 
his regiment. 

In the year 1797 he was appmnted to 
command a flank corps of tbe force 
formed at Madras to act agunst Manilla. 
ITie expedition, however, proceeded no 
further than Prince of Wales's Island, 
whence, owing to local political cir- 
cumstances, it was recalled to Fort St. 

In 1799 he commoaded his regiment, 

the 74th, which fonned part of the ariny 
under General (now LordJ Harris, sent 
against Tippoo Sultaun, and received 
the thanks of the commander-in-chief 
for the gallant conduct of fliat corps at 
the battle of Matlavelly. At the ^egfe 
and capture of Seringapatam, he had the 
honor of being particularly distinguish- 
ed by ihe strongest eipressioni of thfe 
commander-in- chiefs approbatloii- One 
exploit which he performed upon this 
' which created great coti. 



liar work, fVom which 

he dislodged the enemy with great gat- 
lanliy, pursuing them across the bridge 
of communication, and entering the 
island with the fugitives. He came . 
upon (be right ofihe Sultan's entrenched 
camp, where he bayoneted some of the 
enemy in their tenis, and spiked sevetal 
guns. He also served in the first cam. 
paign which immediately folloi^d the 
conquest of Mysore, against Dhoudia 
Waiigli. under Sir Aithur WelliHtey, 
now Duke of Wellington. 

" ' appmnled to the im- 

luindoftheFortof E 


iore, which he retained till again re- 
moved to the command of Pondicherry. 

In IHOl he was selected to command 
die force destined to reduce the Danish 
settlement of Tranguebar, and efl'ected 
that object to the entire satisfaction of 

In 1803 be was appointed to the com- 
mand of the northern dividon of the 
Madras army, with a fbrce of 5,000 



mites in length, and receired the u 
form approbation of his saperionin (be 
conduct of various detachmenti of this 
force employed in (lie field in active and 
difficult opemlions, and in most un- 
healthy districts- While in this com- 
mand, and his bead quarters were at 


pit UOtRAVmCAI. IKDBX FOIt 1825. 

ouslf pleaied 

the York Ligl 

In JsDUsry 

bit wound. In 

July, Ibii yeai 

army during 
Lisbon, wu 1 
BusBco, in tl 
the battle of 
ibeaBairof f 
■iter wbicb a 
pdled him to 
of the sixth di 
England in 
previously be« 

published by lh« ^verunent at Fort 


tioGRAPAiCAi tsttt nit 1BSS. its 

a:.G«Hve,on tbcdifof ptsoMumnce; AgRitlemtnwbatns, forMf acm-' 

and Um fidlowiitg gvnnd order inatd : tiny, l^Mured «r)th nidi unwearied ai.' 

** Sir Alennd^ Campbcll'a cIdk tidmtj in die l>trr*i7 Held, irtra htm 
eonnncion nith the arTny of Fort St. held sucb an imponant statknt as an 
OEorgr, and hii cordial aftacfanwut l» autbor, who baa fnade aucfa large and 
i(, wbii^ had Mibihled fbr a period of nluable contribufioDS b> laeful know- 
thirty years, were confirmed by lira than ledge, and who wh so highly re a pac ta J 
ioMMneof in most honourable adiieie' fiir hk int^tky, bia patriolitm, and bU 
meats, and compleud by the high ata. pnblic ipirit, devrrn * more partieuUi^ 
tioo wtdcb he filled at the (enninatioD conraMinoralioR Awi w* are at pteaeat 
of tat diitin^iAed career. On this enabled to give with perreet aecurwy. 
rnriaodtoly occasion, the flag will be We bare, bowerer, tbr most confident 
boialed batr-nia!<t h^, and aiily-tbur expectation of being enaHed to gratiQ' 
minute guns, correijionding with the Ae readers of oar next Tolume irith a 
age of the late canimRndeT>in- chief, will comet and intetesting memcdr of tlw 
be fired at eadi of At militan stMkms life of Mr. Cbalmen, and an account 
under flih goremnieirt. The gorem- ofbis numeroiu woAs, from anthentie 
m^t in coundl furdierdireela, that the materials derived Ann ^>e beat possibte 
oBcera of HnWiyeXy'*, and the Ha. 
nourabh Company'! armv, will wear 
mAorBing for a fimaighl, from the |ii«. MatFrnents have 
stbl date." tliepuUic prints, we insert a brief notice 

St Alexander married Bnt, Otympia oflhe liffa of diis gentleman, on the ac- 

Ellaabeth, diterof Sir John Morsbead, curacy of which reliance maybe placed. 

BarL, of Trenant PaA, Cornwall ; by Hr. Chalmers was a native of Scot- 

wbom hebadtwo uXisaiKlthreedaugh- land, the history, antiquities, and liter- 

leta. Both his aons wete, sS beftn^ ature of which he has Blustrated with 

mentJoned, shin in artioD ; the elder such indebtig^le assduity and disdn- 

ot the battle of Asaaye, in Ae East In- gnished alul^ in bis ■■ Caledoots," 

dies, the oilwr at that of the Pyrenees, and ottier wortcs. He was descended 

His eldest daughter married the late fhim Bie Chalmers's of I^ttetnear, in 

Aleiauder Cockhum, Esq. banker at the county of Moray, a ftmily wbidi Is 

Madras; the second, M^or Genera] Sir repmented by lua nephew, James 

Jobn Malcolm, K.C.B. ; the youngest, Cbalmers, who has fbr many yens been 

UeutendntCdonet jdacdondd Klnneir, bis domestic associate, and icslous as- 

tOM'K-maior of Fort St, George, and en- ustant in Ms varittus literary puTsatti. 

vdj from tlie governor-general of India He was bom, in the end of the jeat 

to the Fenian Court. Sir Alexander IT4S, at Fochabers, in the county of 

CAnpbdl married seeoudly, Elizabeth Sforay, and was educated, first at the 

Anne, daughter of Rev. Thomas Fern- gramm ar -school of that toim, and etler- 

beittm, and niecfe to Mj^or General Sir wards at King's College, AbeedeeDt 

Charles Wale, K.C.B. ; h(« had issue where he had ^ his preceptor the ce- 

by her a son who died an in&nl, and a lebrated Dr. Reid. From thence ha 

dati^iter. remoted to Edinburgh, where be stu- 

Tbfe baronetcy descends by Ibe pro- died law, which he aftcrwank practised 

visions of the patent to die mde issue of in America more than ten years, till Ibe 

Ms daughters BuCcessirely ; and Is noW tevoitof^ united colonies. After his 

enjoyed tij Sir Alexander Cockbum, return to Briliin he settled in London, 

0[3y son of Mr. and Mt«.Coclbum where he applied to Uteraiy pursuits, 

ab ot etaei ill oned. — Jlagal liUUaiy Co' and distinguished himself by a very d>1e 

taidat; and GenOaiUBt'i tfagaxiHi. and elaborate book of " Politial An- 

CHALMKRS,0«(^ge,B9q.F.R.9. nals of the United Cirfnnies," which 

and 8. A. CUef Clerk of the Commit- dwweJ a profeund knowledge of cc 

tte of Privy Coundt br die Consider- lonial history, colonial Isw, arid colonial 

Mod of an maltvn relMing to Trwtt policy ; and liaviuit aim produced ■• An 

" FfVr^n Platitttthnis ; Colonial Estimate of the Comparative " 

* — ' ■ ''inds;andA« of Great Britain," and aevi 

" CRl«di»Ha," worts which evineed his ab ,, 

1 tlie x-itfftA his intinute ■cif|uaintance' with the trnn 

dvpaflmnut df literlliirei on the 3IA principles of commerce and poKliM 

of nUy ; at Irii bouse io Jatnn Street, economy, he was, in ITSe, selected tb 

Bdt^inghaitt Oote ; aged SS. the fliteat petion to be chief cicik of tba 



COOK, the Rev. Jnwph, M. A. 
Fslloii of Cbrvt College ; 3d of March ; 
bMweeD Mount Sinai and Tor on the 
Jied Sea. After qwDding lome year* 
in the univeraity, irith the highest credit 
and honour to himielf, tie wenl to the 
continent in ISSa Having visited 
Holland, France, German;, and Swit- 
Hrland, and reuded fouTjeara in Italj, 
devoting hia time to the public perform^ 
ance of hi* clerical dutie* at the Eng. 
lith chapel at Rome, and that of the 
■iiilanaiitiii at Naple*, and to the itudj 
and coDtempUtioD of the inlerealing 
ol^ects with wbich thoae classical shorn 
■bouod ; and having qualified himielf 
for a full and mil . .. . 

profane hiitory — Iw let out fnmi MallB 
ill .tuguat last, on a tour to Egypt and 
the Holy Land, accompanied tqr Dr. 
.Ilroinhciid, of C»nbndgeuDitenUf,aiid 
Mr. Lewii, of the navy. Hating pen*- 
tnted hejrond the tecond cataract of the 
Nile, the party returned to Cairo, from 
wbmoe llwy proceeded to Mount Sinai. 
The faiigunol* this journey, the lade- 
niencyof die weailier, and the privatiooa 
insepir^)e from travelling in tboae 
countries, lo weakened him (ahhoogh be 
left Cairo apparently in perfect health), 
that after Mopping a few dayi at Mount 
Sati to recruit hi* itrcngth, he was 
unable to reach Tor; and, under dr- 
cunutonces fraught with the rnott deep 
and awful incemt, expired on his camel 
in the PawWady Uebram, near Mount 
Serbsl, to tlie iiieipressible r^ret of hi* 
family and tViends. Hi* remain* were 
deposited by hi* companion! in the 
burying-ground of a Greek church, near 
the well* of Elim, a ipot which-iiahad 
eiprcned hi* moit anxious wish toviait, 
and which, to u*e the word* of iiiK 
friend. Dr. Bromhead, '■ could be liave 
foreseen hi* fiue, lie would probibly 
have selecled aa hi* last eBrlhly tbode." 
— Caniiriiige^PajKT. 

CORRl, Mr. D., suddenly, in Ibe 
Hempstead Road, at the ^e of 8S. 
Mr. Corri was well known a* a com- 
poser and teacher of eminence for the 
last fifty year*. Duriog the last lit 
years a very rapid decay of nature was 
visible, and within the last nix month* 
fit* of insanity were rather frequent; 
the increasing infirmi^ of hi* mind liad 
rendered it Decenary lo employ a me- 
dicat person to have the care of him, and 
a doctor was appointed to wboni the 
deceased wa* well known. He was ta 
have removed neit week, when deatb 
inatantly removed him fnon thi* world. 
On Sunday he appeared more beai^ 
than usual, and said to an old acquaint- 
ance, who came lo dine with him, " I 
am glad you are come, for I auppoae I 
shall not lee you so often after to-day, 

as I remove to Dr. on Tuesday or 

Wednesday." He sot down apparently 
in the best health and spirit*, and ale 
heartily, till he suddenly fell bMk in his 
diair ; a rattling was beard in his throat, 
be attempted to gra^ a jug of water, 
water was instantly given him, hisnedc- 
cloth loosened, &c- , hut the jaw fell and 
be was no more. Hie nearest surgeon 
was instantly sent for, under an idea 
that he liad choakad IrinuelT, but it 
' proved no! to be the rase ; it is supposed 




M'hBie Itren mn apa|ilectlc fit. He liad Utia; but resigning lusiiUi>lian,«iacrad 

beeu B remnrksbljabslemiou) man, and ioon nfternanls Uw rrguUt army. 

iievL'r hid liny iUniiBsbuc the Koutdoriiig On (hedeuhut' hUiother, Scpl. S6. 

tm life. An eipr«H was imiantly sen( 1791, lie succeeded to tbe family title; 

off ID hii son, wIk) resides in Hercules and his mother (■ lady celelnttd for 

Buildinga, but ere lie arrived he wai a b«r taste and occompliihmeDts} Id the 

carpw. fallowLDg month ruuried the Margrave 

I Mr. Com was a pupil of Forpora, of Anepach and Bareutl]. 

at Naples, from 1 763 tUI bis preceptor's 

.Jea;h in 1767. He came to London 

to an cnsigncy in ibe <3d fijol ; atKl,ti« 

in 1774, and in the ume year produced 
an opera eniiiled " Alessaodro nell' 

pendent company, and to a company in 

Indie;" but liis name was not suffi- 

theSOtb. In the following year he was 

ciently bla»oned to give his performance 

appoiniedmsjurofthe S4th and lieu t.- 

much eclat, or indeed to eiicite the at- 

colonel, for which last he is said to have 

teution it deserved. He wtlled in 

given a larger sum than was ever paid 

Edinburgh, but returned to London in befoi 
I7S8. Ill that year be published three campaign in Fland< 
volumes of English Songs, withoriginat at thesiegcof Nimc 
■ceompaniments, a work which waa^iiiportatitafisirs; 

modenilcly successful . In 1796 been- In the West Indies, and was present at 
tercd inio partnndiip with Mr. John tlie capture of Trinidad. He was also 
Louis DuBsek, in (he Hsymnrket, and removed frotn the B4ih to the Bufls, and 
they were appointed music-sellers to the from tbe lalterto the 40tta foot. 
Royal E'amily. Mr. Corri publisiied a On theRrstof January, 1798, hewn 

great deal of bis own music j but the appointed aid-de-camp to tbe King, and 
u'urka hy which be in chiefly known in received the brevet of colonel. In 1799 
England, are liis opera of " 'Dte Tra- be served at tl>e Helder; was in mosL 
vellen," the Bird Song in " The Cn< of thegeneralactions; atldsubsequentiy 
served in (he Mediterranean. On (he 
«gb(eentb of June, ISOl, he was ele- 
vated to a viscounty ^nd earliium by (be- 
titles of Viscount UfEngton, co. Berks, 
and IZarl of Craven, c». York. In 
1803 he was appointed colonel of the 
9th batUlion of reserve; on Jan. 1, 
lS05,receivedtlie rank of major-general, 
and served on the statf of Great Britaia 
from (he commencement of the war (ill 
tbe rank of lieu- 

iu.gmg. >n 
S >ols. called " The Singer's Preceptor. " 
He wa< brodier to Nstale Corri, a 

burgh, uncle of Mad. Frances and l^o- 
aalie Corri, songiitresses, and fatlier of 
Haydn Coni, pianist and singing maMer 
of Dublin, Montague Corri of Man. 
Chester, performer at several theatres, 
■■ 4iid a feacmg-master, and of Mrs. Mo. 
rait, lute Mrs. Dussek, late of the Opera 
House. — MatUMy and Gentleman' t ita- 

general June 


Lord Craven appears u 
equally fond of a nautical, aiofaniili- 
tary life; fur, in 1806, be launched a 
fine new pleasurc-yadit, the Louisa, 
from tbe docks at Shateham,br!g.rigged, 

Tying two twelve aud sii-pound car- 

CRAVEN, the Eight Honourable 
William Craven, Earl of; eo. York ; 
Viscount Uffington, Baton Craven of 
Hempsled Marshal, Berks, lord lieu, 
tenant and custos rotulorum of Berk- , _ 

sliiie, recorder of Coventry, trustee of ronades. He may be said ti 

Rugby school, and a lieutenanl-generBl ginated the Yacht Club, wliicb now 

in (be army ; July 30 1 at his lodgings, tbruis so delightful and serviceable a 

West Parade, Coives, Isle of Wight, in portion of our national amusemanis; at 

bis 5.f(h year j after a lingering illness least he was one of its priudpal eariy 

occasi6ned by rbeumatic gout. munificent patrons. 

His lordship was the eldest son, but On the l^tli of December, IS07, his 

third diild, of William, sixth BaronCra- lardshipmBrriedLouisa,*seconddaUgta- 

ven, by Elizabeth, second daught 
Augustus, fourth earl of Beikley ; w 
born Sept. 1, 1770. 

His lordsliip having taken a passii 
for a military Life £t an early period, ul 
Mined a command in tbe Berkshire m 


if John 

, of Nor 

s of Covent Garden 



tbMMt. Sj hw )w bd iMKB Ae prt- tSiiOt. yet tmaom, «nil ■ K^iKtc cunH 

■enlnrl,boniJalrl8, ISOg.BndcliKC at lOflOOI. The pictuio, plile, mmI 

other dtOdrcD, twu loni and > dai)gli> funrituru at Coombi! Abbey, md u 

nr. Ashdown Park and HampNead txxige, 

tn Nbumnbar, ISlff, Mi lordihip had are to be consdered u bdr-looDu, and 

ttwhmaurof entectabirng HU pnaent l» acMmpBDr the deriae oT those nUtea 

Mlfeal;, thsn Prince Reeent, at hia arcordinglr. To Lady Geot^iana Cm-' 

Inuse, CoombeAbbejr, inWarwickahire, ven, his lordihlp'a lUtcr, he hai left 

tlrheMeh«v(lltedtli«Marquisor Angle- SOOt, per annum vbils she cootinuei 

snt al Beaadeant and Utcbfield ; liut nnnurried; and to Dr. E<)en, " Tor 

ralunied to Connba Abbey, on the hia attention and kindneaa during hi* 

ekienth, Tesideneeininy&niily,300I. persnnum 

When hit deali) w» known, sll the for life." The connteM !• appcHnted 

jathti and vensels in Cowea HariKnr aalepurdlanoftbechlldrendnrin^tfaeir 

and roads carried ifadr flagt and Iwr- minority, and Lord Ufflogton residuary 

geta luir-mast hl^, out at mpeet Ui tegalae. The will ii dated the 96th of 

hia tordahip's memory, and fbe n^ua' July, 1635. The penonal estate ii 

Mlnle wMdi wa> to hive been fired on nrorn under 70,00(K. — Gentlaaan'i 

Ae arrWal at their Royal Highnesses MaeaxiM. 
the Didie and Duchew of Cambridge 
Ml a rislt to Mr. Nash at EaK Cowea 

Castk, waf , from a similar fcehng, dis- D. 


Hia nanains were recdved at the 
n thrir way to hia 

a' bearae and six, and two mourning don ; December 35, 1 B21. He was 

Madia and fbur ; the hearse was pre- the eldest ion of Robert Dallaa, aq. at 

oadad by mutes, aai the coronet of the Kennngton, en. Middlesex, (who died 

Mkleeari was bonw on a cuddoa by a April IS, lT9C)i by Eliiabeth, daugh- 

nanonhorseback; tlMpracetiionmoTed ter of the Rev. Jamea Smith, minister 

ttmngfa the town abont eight o'clock, of Kilbcrney, in AytaUre. 
•ndarindat Oxferd, AuglM6,iirtiere Being intended Irom hia inbncy for 

Ae body lay in staleat the Star Inn. the bar, he leceiTed a good edueaiioi]. 

Mil lotdsUp'a irill ws> prani in the and be determined to accustom himielf 

Fronagathw OSce, Aug. 99, grant of to public speaking. It is well known 

pcotMle bving made t« Sie Ri^ Bon. that Mr. Burke commenced hia career 

Wlllam lUlip, earl of Srfton, bi« as an otalor, and distinguiBfaed himself 

iMdshfp'sbrtither-ls-taw, as one of the in Bow Lane, belbre he attempted to* 

ew cu tw » i power being leserred for the riiine in St. Stephen's chapel. Mr. 

ifk* purpoea to the Hon. Hew7 Ati- Oarrowdiopreparedbiroself tor Weal, 

ntiis BeAeley CnaVeo, and the Hon. minster Hall, .by his previout attends 

Bidiird Kepfiel Cmen, the broiben^ ance at die Westminster Fonnii ; utile 

*e other «lecBtor^wb*neKr they apply the sul^ect of diia memoir rnltlatedhim- 

for d» same, the estBlM f n Berks and self at Coachmaker's Hall, and was al- 

Wnu are made suttject to defati and le. lowed by his auditors to bo a Tery cor- 

gides, but not aa as to eiouerate per- reel and eloquent speaker. 
a«nal properly. Tbie testator eonfinn^ On bnog called to the Bar he ob- 

tha lutdcinent irf aooof. per annum lained considerable pracitn at NU 

aada to dn eounteas lubaequently to Frius, and went the dnnit; but wa* 

ibdr mtniiH, and bequMtha to her brou^intopablicnabcebybeingoiw 

beMesaBadditlanUS(XX».per>nDuni of the comnel employi^ by Mr. HaM- 

fbrlife. Also a principal sum of 4000t ings on his impeachment. Healsodla^ 

and die bawWifiinunu^ and the grounds tinguldied hims^ on several other oc- 

at Han^alcad Vuk tir life, the wine, caaions, more eapedatly before com- 

Ae.| there, and all tier }ewds. The mittees on contested decdoni, which led 

tMl cMaica in WUlahiie and Beriubire to a silk gown, as King's Counsel. 
■R deriaed to Ae tealator*B ddeit loir, Jn the second imperial Psrliament 

Lord Ufflngton; those in Middlesex to wUcfa met in 1A09, he was returned for 

kte second eoa ; and to his tUrd son, St. Michael's, Cornwall ; but lucceed- 

«h*rgcd on the Middlesex- eabtle^ Ing Sir T. Oibbs as Chief Justice of 



OwsWr, Monlgomeiy, FHnf, and Den- 
4ifghs]1irp, a new wril vas ordered, Feb. 
1, 1365, ^d be was sucrueded bT the 
■*ldeat son of Ihe Duke of Buccle'iij{h. 
In the same Parlfament he wns returned 
for the (Mstrict burghs of Kirkcaldy, 
Kinghom, Burntisland and Dysarl, va- 
eant through Sr J. St. Clare Ertkiire 
becoming Earl of Rosalf n. 

In 1808 was publi&hM his " Speech 
in the Court of King's Bench on a Mo- 
tion for a new Trial in the case of King 
*. Picton," 8»o. In 181,1 he was ap- 
pointed one of the Puisne Judges of the 
Court of Common Pleas, and Nov. S, 
)8I8, WHS sworn Chief Justice, in the 
Tooni of Sir Vicary Gihbs. who had r«- 
dgned. On Che ]9tb of November fol- 
lowing he was iwom a Privy Council- 
lor. In Nor. I8S3, be signified his 
retirement from the chief justiceship, 
on account of the fatigues of oflicisl 
«:enion, which had much impaired his 
health. His retirement caused great 
and general regret among ail who had 
the pleasure of knowing him profes- 

■ionaltvor otht 

Sir Robert Dallas spoke less R-e- 
quently in the House of Commons while 
member, than might liave been expected 
from his professional oratory ; he, how. 
ever, made a long and able speech, 
May 24, IS03, in favour of tlie miots- 
ter*s conduct relative to Prance. 

By bis marriage with Charlotte, 
^ughter of the late Lieut.-Col. Alex- 
ander Jardine, iflerwards British con- 
' ml at Corunna, he had issue, several 
<:hildren. — Genlleman'i Magndne. 

DANCE, George, Esq. R.A. and 
T-S-A. Audiiorof Ihe Royal Academy; 
January 14 ; at his house in Upper 
Guwer Street, aged S4. 

He was son of George Dance, Esq. 
an eminent architect and Clerk of the 
Works of the city of London, (who 
built the present Mansion-House in 
1739, Shoreditch, and St. LuVe's 
churches, &c.) and died in 1768; in 
which year the late Mr. Dance, suc- 
ceeded, by purchase, to his father's 
ofBce, in which be was succeeded in 
1B16, by his favourite pupil, William 
Mountague. Esq. by appointment uf 
Ihe Court of Common Council. 
• Mr. Dance's youngest iHinher, was 
Ihe celebrated painter, Nathaniel 

great Yorkslilre heiress, Mrs. Dummer, 
took the name i^ Holland, and was 
created a baronet in 1800. Hedicdtn 

From 1795 to 1T9T, he was one of 
the' Council of the Rojal Academy ; 
and in 1798 we first lind him auditor. 
Mr. Dance was for some years Pro. 
fessor of Architecture at the Royal 
Academy, but he never lectured. 

In 1811, appeared the first volume, 
and in 1814 a second, of" A Collection 
of Portraits sketched from the Life, 
wnce the year 1793. By George 
Dance, Esq. and engraved in imitation 
of the Original Drawings by William 
Daniell, A. II. A." large fatjo. 

This gentleman was eminently and 
justly distinguished far learning, tnsie, 
and genius as an architect, and for 
high intellectual powers and attain. 
ments independently of his professional 
excellence. Nature had been liberal 
to him in person and mind. He pos- 
sessed B veiy handsome figure, a regu- 
lar and etpressive ikce ; and his eyes, 
in fiwcE aud lustre, almmt equalled 
those of his friend Garrick, Mr. Dance 
possessed also an understanding of a 
very sup^ior order. He had enriched 
his mind by travel, and an attentiTe 
study of all the admirable remains of 
antiquity in Home, and throughout 
Italy and France. He was intimately 
acquainted with many of Ihe most dis- 
tinguished characters in ihis country, 
whose patronage he enjoyed in lus pro- 
fessional c.ipacitf , and by whom he was 
esteemed and admired for iiis learning, 
good humour, and all compnnioiialile 
eicellence in private lilb. He was the 
ready and the lealous friend of merit in 

His taste in Poetry, Painting, Sculp- 
ture, Mu'iic, and in all the Fine Arts, 
was pure, refined, and elquisite. He 
hiid for a few years past latwured under 
a lingering illness, in which he suS^ed 
in mind more than corporally, as it 
prevented liim from exercising his hos- 
pitable temper, and enjoying the so- 
cicty of his numerous friends, most of 
whom were eminent for talents, as well 
as for high stations ; and it may be truly 
said that the country was adorned, and 

taste, beauty, and grandeur, which 
eharacteriied the works of this truly 
estimable gentleman. Mr. Dance wa* 
the last surviving member of the ori- 
ginal forty Royal Academicians. His 
remainswereinletredia the vaults of St. 
Paul's cathedral, tn what is called the 




ArtiUi' Comer, Mar to (hoae o! Sir 
ChriMtoplrer Wren, ind Mr. Danct's 
lale friend Mr. Rennie ; an approiiriBle 
•ituation, aa he wat allied in geniua to 
both of Iboae illustrious ornaments of 
the country. — GeraUiHan't Mngaibu. 
DIXON, Joshua, Esq. M.D ; Jan. 
7 [ in Lowlhcr Street, Whileliawn ; 
aged SO. On ilie evening of liis decease, 
be wrote two letteni to h[a son and 
daughter; requesting ■ visit fram the 
latter and rerlain of his grand children, 
whorn be had not aeon. Th:^ ktters 
■ere sent to the post-off ee at half-paat 
eight. He was tlisn well. In ■ short 
time he was seized with ni-lden illness 
— soon seat for Dr. Hobmson — but 
in sprte of medical tkill, va^ s corpse 
before midnight. His lung life ha$ been 
one continued scene of usefulness and 
benevolence. The town ufWliiielisven 
is indebted to liim for man; improve. 
meots necessary to its health and com- 
fort. Tbe dispensary was llie fruit of 


and froi 

and II 

in 1783, up to the day of his de^th, he 
acted graluitouily as physidan and chief 
manager. The unfortunate, the poor, 
the sick, alt were < 
■el, pecuniary ass 

sLill. There was not a mercenary 
feeling in hit heart. He acquired but 
to bettow — he lived but to aid his fel- 
low-creaUires. Frommorningtill night 
be unremittingly pursued the heavenly 
wort of charity. Often, latterly, when 
age bad enfeebled his bodily frame (al. 
ways weak and diminutive, has he 
been seen climbing to the abodes of 
misery lilarally on Ids bands and knees ! 
What more can be said, wlien a simple 
fact pronounces so eloquent a pane- 
gyric ? Independently of iheae more rare 
acaonpliahmenla — ^e " graces of the 
80ul,*^^the doctor was disCinguisbed 
by medical skill and literary ability of 


of a great many uscfu 
says, acknowledged and anonymous, hut 
his principal work was tlie" Life of 
WtlliamBrownrigg, M.D."8vo. ISOO, 
in which he incorporated an histotica) 
essay on coal mint^, particularly those 
in bis neighbourhood. In IflSS he pub- 
lished a tract, entitled, " The Church 
Catecliism Illustrattd." — GeiUieman'r 

DOBREE, the Rev. Peter Paul; 
at Trinity College, Cambridge ; Si'pt. 
S4th. Mr. Dobree was a ftllow of 
that college, aniprofessor of the Greek 
language in Uie UiiiTCrsily. He waa 

msx FOR 1825. 

bom in Guernsey in 1 789, lod was wat 
at an early agfi to Headling Sdiaol, 
under the care and direction of Dr. 

Valpy, who sent him to Trinity Col- 
lege, Cambridge, lliere are ^llow- 
ships in Oiford for natives of Gtumaey 
and Jersey ; but Mr. Dobree had pro- 
perly which disqualified him for them. 
At Cambridge he distinguished himself 
hy a depth and accuracy of classical 
learning, which raised him to the highest 
eminence. Without making an asser. 
tion, which has been too confidently, 
liaiarded of other literary characten 
that he was the best Greek scholar in 
England, it may be said without pre- 
sumption, that be was exceeded by none 
in extent of knowledge, in sagacity of 
criticism, in laboriuus research, and in 
eiquiatc taste in the beauties of the 
Greek and Latiri languages. He waa 
intimately acquainted with Por«on, who 
seitliehighestvalue on his talents; and 
at llie death of tliat great man he waa 
t'onudered as his natural successor. 
But he was at tliat lime out of the king- 
dom, and the diffidence of his dispoat- 
tion would not permit him to become an 
active competitor for any honour. On 
the promotion of Ibe isle professor to 
ilic deanery of Fe(ert>orough, he waa 
unanimously elected to the professoF- 
ahip. — He waa preparing public lec- 
tures on the Greek language, in which 
the rich stores of his Irnming and geiritia 
would have been imparted to the stu- 
dents of the university had his faealth 
been preserved. He has sufficiently 
established his ctiaracter by bis notes to 
Foiion'i Aristophanica, published at 
the eipence of lYinity College in 1890, 
At the request of the same liberal so- 
ciety, be edited and corrected in I89ii 
Uie LeiicoB of Photlus. He waa the 
author of several valuriile articles in 
the Clas^cal Journal. He had Uke- 
wite collected materials for a new edi- 
tion of Demosthenes, which would have 
made a copious accesdon to tbe fund of 
Greek literature. He was no lesa dis- 
tinguished for the qualities of the heart 
than forihoieufthe head. His hltetal- 
ily and his beneficence were displayed 
on every occauon in full proportion lo 
hisability. His contenation waa Uvely, 
interesting, and instructive. Allhou^ 
he was said by some to he occasionally 
fastidious in'his criticisms, he waa ad- 
mired by the hestand most candid scbo. 
lars at home and abroad; among Iba 
latter of whom may be mentioned, 
Sch»aghauBer, Schleuiner, and Her- 

t, Google 

iKDEx roR 182S 419 

■iriiedin En^nd lite end nf Ihe year , 
1764. Lieut. Col. UoKixnan, which 
rank he received lit of ftlnrch 1794. 

DOWNMAN, Ueut. Col. Tratie* ; tro* alM CaptaiB in iIk Invalid H^Iial- 

u West Mailing lAMgust 16 iAgul 85. lion oT ttie Oeyal AniWry. — liayal 

— Col. Downwan eiMei«d (he Royal UiMlary Calaultr. 

Artiikry in June 1757; in 17£9 be U'UVLV, Sir Jtihn, Bart. ; at Knii- 

was wiA Ibe army, at tlut tine cgm- dy; May 25, 1824; orari'miltPnl Tuver. 

uanded l>y ilM Duke of iUarlborMigli. Sir John D'Oyly >v(s a mciober oT 

at Ibe destcuction of iLc Frencli s''ip- His Majesly'a <;ouiu:il in Cuylun, and 

ping and uorcs al St. Maloea ; Ik ubs Re^'dent and Fii^ Camints%ioncr of 

al (lie demolition of the warks and Iwt- Government 'in the Kandyan pro- 

teriea of Clierburg, and aAsrcard^ ai nnces. He was born in June 1774 ; 

(Iw unlucky aSiiirMSt.CHs,(»miuaad- and aax ike second ton of die late 

ing tint only two &i-{>oundm tlut Rev. M'lliliias D'Oyly, Archilfa on 

were on share. He sailed for Uie West of LeHix, and Keclor of United in 

ladies tht same year wiiJi the army un- Sussei. ADer receiving ihe ruJimenls 

der the old Gen. Ho)UBn ; was with of hJi education at a preparatory h.'IukiI. 

the troop (iM miide a janding at Mar- lie na$ sent to Wesitninaicr, where he 

linrque, and was very actively employed m.i Jc great proftcicoey in cJjs^ical 

in the reduction of GHiidaloupe, wlii^re aiuiiimests, under the learnetl Dr. Vio- 

Jh reinaiaed till the peace uf 1103, •«ot. He was elected on the faimda- 

eicept attending the troops Ihat cap- tion of the school in 17K8. In I79'J 

hired Dominique ; be can>e to England be removed to Corpus Christi College 

at the «nd of ihe year 1 7(>3. He went in Cambridge, where be applied bim- 

to New York in June ITC4, lemainvd self diligently to classical studies e&. 

there till Noieiober of the Kime pecLilly, and mvotamed in ■ more 

year, when lie wasonlered with a hmall extended sphere the high character 

detacbniant uf artillery to Pensaiula. in wlucb he had already acijuired amongst 

the Gulf of Ueiico, lo take [Kbsestian bis contemporaries. He easily bore 

of that miserable place; he had tin away the principal priies within the 

misfortuiK lo reoiain in tbii province limits of his own college, where the 

till the end of the year ITI?, at which Geld of compedtion was small ; but in 

tinw be wasorderfid lo Si. Augusliue, 1795 he succeeded iu obtaining, in 

in llie gulf of Florida, where he re- competition with the whole University, 

mained till January 1 77'.!. He tlien one of Sir Wm. Browne's medals for a 

sailed to New York, remained there l^tin Ode on Commerce, and in the 

till Augu»l, and arrived in EngUndin following year having obtained the 

November of the same year. After degree of Senior Optime in commcnc- 

aome service in ■'^'otland he was ordered ing Bachelor of Arts, lie received tlie 

to New York: lie joinedtbe army un- honor of (be second medal given by 

der Gen. Hirwe; was constantly em- the Chancellor for the beat prolicicnts 

]>layed froiu (he time of landing at the in classical knowledge. In cunse- 

heul of Elk till the enlrance of (lie quence of (bese distinc(ions he tras 

army into Philadelphia, and principnlly fleeted into a fellowship of bis CQllege 

eogajiad in (akingtbe DflawatefiiKaU;, in 1798. 

iind Uie destruction and (ukingof Mild 11^ original desiiuation was (lie 

Island in Ihe Delaware. He wat the cburcii, and to (his profession his cdu- 

DDly English otGcer witli the (roops cation had been direc(ed. But when 

under Count Doiu^, al the unfortunate lie arrived at iitB(urity, and was able to 

■ttacK on (he worksal Ked Bank, on eiercise his own judgment in the choice 

the Jersey shore; about (bi?i time he of a profeNsion, be felt withiu him,as he 

VBS taken eKremely ill and was obliged eiprebsed to his friends, a spirit of en- 

to go to New York in the liospital-ship. terpriie and on ardour of mind, which 

He remained at New York (ill Novem- impelled him to dislike the retirement 

bet 1 778, when he was ordered to sail of tlie country, and to desire to engags 

with the army under Gen. Grant, for in some active scenes of public li|e. 

the West Indies. He wa<i much eiti. In consequenceof his declining to take 

plojtd in the reduction of St. Lucie, holy orders, he was obliged, by Che st&- 

■fhcre be remained till it wai restored lutes of the college, lo resign his (cU 

to France, except visiting (he other is- lowship after three years ; and in tSlO 

lonils. He soiled from Grenada and be gladly ctabraced Ibe ofler of a dril 



utuatloDintfK Iilanlof Cefliin,undrr brought undor dta Britiah dominiiHi, 

the BppDintnient of the Governor, ths Mr. D'Oyly wis appointed r«sideDt M 

Hon. F. North, nov Enrl of Guildford. Kuidy, and lint commiisoner fw Ifae 

Tioni the moment of hie dealination gatpmmerit of the immnees. From 

being fixed, he begon to. Hppljr all Ibe thai period he devoted hinifelf eotirelf 

cfwrgies of. his miiid to tin bludia aitd (a tlie huainen of this Matkm, resdiiig 

purauits connectnl »ilh Ins new situ- in the palace fonner!y oc*up>ed bj the 

adon, and mede g m^jid acqutremenl of king. He made it liib peculiar studf to 

sevend oricnlal langungo. He uiled acquire a thorough kDovledge of the 

forCeylonin tlieaLitumnof IROI.and diaracter and genius of the peopla 

arrived there in February tSOS. From eomniitted la hia care: aad by Ibe 

ttie period of lus arrivnl he daroled kindness of hi) general demeanour to- 

himsclf to the uudy of the language wards them, by taking care Hat lo 

nnd character of the people, their ciyi 

and religious institutions, the liislnry 
nnd natural producuons of the island. 
He soon became master of the Cin)(nleBi 

languageto a degreein whichno Euro- conciliating tbar 
peah was faia competitor, and he was in and afleLtiou, in an eitnmrdinarj 
consequence, at an eariy periiid of his degne. Indeed all, from the bigbcaC 
residence, appointed chief iraiiilaicH' to (he lowest, were ready lo acquiesce 
to the government. By his ability, in all that be recommended; and ii4ien- 
inCegrily, attention to buninesa, and ever any little appearance of turbulence 
general usefulness, be rccomiuended or dissatisfaction wai obaeiTed, he bad 
himself to his supetiora in the govern- generally only to sliow bimself among 
ment of the island, and was adranced tbem, and every, thing waa quiet, 
by degrees to different staiiona. At The merits and eiertiona of Sr John 
last, under the Government of Sir D'Oyly as a public servant, and prin- 
Bohert Brownrigg, in 1915, an oppor. dpally aa connected with the addition 
lurdty was atforded to htm of elerttng to HisMajesly'sdominiDnaofttketarger 
with great succcas his lalenta, and ac. part of Ceylon, were duly ej^redated 
tivity ofmind. Inconsequence of tlie by the highest authorities. His Ha- 
extraordinary cructiy of the reigning jesty'a approbationwaaiirst moreyed in 
King of Kandy, which induced his first tin di^Mtch from Ibe Socrelaty of State 
miniater and others of bis priiicipa) sub- to Kr Robert Brownrigg, pobH^ed bj 
jects to implore the assistance of the Ibe Ceylon Govenunent, June 1, ISlff, 
Briti^ goremmettt, and of his aggres- in the following words i 
Bona on British subjects and alhe, it " I am also commanded particulaHy 
was deemed an act of justice to prepare to eipres tlie mise which faia Royal 
■n expedition against his capital. The Highness the Prince Regent eotHlaina 
GOoduetofAenegotiationswitbthedia- of the eondact and aervieea of Mr. 
contented chiefs, and tlie businrss of D'Oyly upon the late occanM. To 
procuring intelttgenee for the guidance his iulelligenee in coniiucting the nego- 
of the dSl^nt detachments ot' the ar- datioBs, first with the Kandyan go- 
my, mainly depended oa Mr. U'Oyly, vvrmnent, and latterly with the Adllun 
wfaose fiuniliar acquaintance with the and others who apposed it, Kr bis inda. 
language of the country gave liiin ad- fatigabkt ai-liiity in procuring inliKm- 
vantages which none othiT posaeised, ation and in directing the military 
and whose popularity with the nativea detadimenta, the complete succeaa cf 
added great sirefigih lo ilie cause, ilie enterpriiie is principally oirii^; 
And with such skill nnd ability did he and his llc^al Highneaa avails himadf 
make all the arrangements, tint in the with pleasure of tliis opportunity of ex- 
course of a (cry few days tlie lroDt» presking how greatly he appredalei not 
reached Kandy, (he king nas dethroned, only Mr. D'Uyly's latter serricea, bat 
and the Kandyan prokinces brought tltose whidi be has at fanner petioda by 
utider the British dominiei). Mr. his allention lo the Kanc^n depart- 
D'Oyly, it abnuld be mentioned, ac- ment, rendered la thectdony and Ut 
compauied the eipedHion himself, and country." 

JuDing faimaelf to a delachuicnt of Ilie His Majesty's af^rovsl was fol^twcd 

iniops, was the penoii who made c^- by the elevation of Ibe iliiia^rt to a 

tive [he flying and fallen king. Baronetcy of the Unilsd Kkgdea, 

On Ibe Kandyan provinces ban* liTlli July, ISSl. This lilk benwm 




unfortuiiilely ci 

ried liim off, wia caught bj^ 

YKit nf ufEcfoL busiDefu 

Kundjaa, prminces. Il 

btforehand thst a malign 

nging there, and his friends endesvour. 

Hie |ial) iKirnc ]ij tii ficld-officcnr «ad 

taptaim of Uie gurriiiOH. 
Cbaplwn, tbe lUv, N. Gantiri— Medi- 

cid attendant, Surgeon Annilraiig. 
Lieutenant-colonel I.. GrevriKall, S. 
Savren, Htq, H. Wright, Esq., the 
Cominiuioniin of Hie Board, as cbief- 


in this, aa Oficers of 

ansideriag (Lie 

e gairisoD and geallemGii 
of Kandjf. 
The Adikarof tlio Kandyan Proviaces, 

and KandfUi Cliicfs. 

Mudliaarij, Mohaiidirains of the Rasi' 

dttocy, CLt-rks of tiic Public-aHiccs, 

togetlur with an immeiiBc concourae of 


GeHlluniaa'i Mo^diit. 

DUKENFIELD, Sir Matfiaiiid, 

Bart of Stanlake, Berki, and Du- 

kenfi^ld HalJ, l-o. Chester, and late 

LieutfiiBOt-Colonet of the Windsor ¥o- 

r WbbI 

f John Warde, E>q., 

on man; other < 
sacrilicvd his private gon 
of public dul;. He e 
iaconsiderahle fortune i 
length of time during n 
in the island, and the ucriSces he had 
made. Indeed, his liberality was «o dif- 
fusive that he appeart.'d scaicely to tliink 
of providing the means of retiring widi 
tint affluence wbidi he deserved lo his 
luitive country. 

During his loiig residunce in tlie 
island, he applitfd, as has been staled, 
his enquiring mind to diligent researthts 
into its history and antiquities, and na- 
turvl productions, aod tlie customs uf 
(lie inhabitants. His friends wen- cou. 
tinually urging him lo prepare » litstury 
of the island, whirh no one had the 
means ofeiecutiagiritli such knowledge 
and truth as himself, and it is hoped tliat 
materials may be found ainoiigst bis 
papers which will essentially contribute 
to the illusEration of this singular eoun- 
(17. No one was tnore industrious iti 
collecting materials, and no one was 
better qualified by judgment and pene- 
tration to make a proper use of them. 
At several periods he sent over to bis 
friends partial translations of 
galese iiianuscripts, wliicii gi> 
opinion of the liierary acquirements of 
this rude people^ 

His loss will long be felt in the island 
of CejloD, and the natives especially will 
long remember him withalTectioaaUre- 
gietfastheir best friend, benefactor, an4 

late residence in tlie palace for inter- 
ment in the burial-ground of the gar- 
rison on the S6lh of iUay , at T o'clock, 
tbe troops of the garrison lining ibe 
tiwd, resting on Uieir arras revetscd, 
while minute guns were fired by tlie 
royal artillery in the castle, as the pro- 
cession moved in the following order : 
The Koralcs and A ratchies of the Uda- E. 

The Battd of the Ceylon Regiment. EAKDLEy,the Right Honourable 

Ta» BoDT, Sampson Eaidley, Lord, Baron Eard- 

borqi; by twelve European sotdien of llfy of Spalding, a Baronet of Great 

the U tb lecimanu BriUia, PX.L. F.R S. P.S.A., and 

le Cin- 

>f Nathaniel Dukenfield, 
Esq. of Utkinion, (third son of Sir 
Robert, first liaronet) by his secand 
wife, Margaret, daughter of — - Joily, 
Esq. On [he death of his couun mr 
Samuel, the fourth Baronet, May 15, 
[ TGH, hc.succeeded to the title, and in 
1TS3 married Katlierine, sister of Johu 
Warde, of Squcrries, co. Kent, Esq. 
who died Sept. 39, 1 833 ; and by whom 
he had six sons and ona djtughtcr. Un 
the 4th of October 1 SO;! he was appoint, 
ed an Inspecting Field UOicer of Yoi- 
manry and Volunlwr Corps, with tlw 
rank of lieutenant- colonel in the army, 
so lo«£; as bu continued on llie Hafl^, and 
held tlie above sppoinlmeiit. He is 
succeeded by his second sou, now Sir 
John Lloyd Uukcnfield, Bart. Samuel, 
(he eldest wn, witowas Captain in the 
7tii Light DragiKinSj met widi his 
death in a very melancholy manner, 
He was returning in the Dispold) 
(nmsport from the campaign in Spain. 
H'heie be had honourably distinguished 
himself, when, on tJie S£d of January 
1810, the vessel was wrecked within 
sightof his native shore, on thcManocle 
Kocks near Falmouth. — (^ntlnnaii') 



Sraior Boilitr of l^ BeJri:>rd Level 
Corpomtkin; Dee.l!5, 1824; at No.lO, 
Maiine Parade, Brigblan ; in bi» aOth 

Hi* LonWlip't foUwr, Sampson 6i- 
deoD, E<q. oT Spalding, (WiiHy of Liit- 
eoln, and Belvedere, Keiil, was tbe 
aoD or Mr. Itowland Gideon, an 
eminent We»t India Merdnnt, and 
was bom in 16S9. Following t1iepri>- 
ibsuons of a general men^m and 
sworn binkor, he ainasaed an immense 
fortune. He was rrequemlT consnlted 
k; the nimsten of the day ; and be 
aevend times delivered seheaeB fm- 
raising supplies; aUaya making him- 
self anaweraljle for a uonsideiable por- 

was he ;htM by ministers, thai in the 
years 1T5S and 17S9, he was abiioiit 
wholly relied on for raising the sup- 
plies, and the disinteieatedneis, as well 
•9 the ADity of liis conduct, appears 
from his correspundenee witli the Dukes 
of Newcastle and Devonshire, &c. 
The principal object of hii 


Eye«rs . 

rant of ■ liaronel, first foi 
and afterwards for Us sou, the late I^rd 
Eardley, by his wife Jane, daughter of 
Charles Ermel, E^. who was iiorn 
OcL 10, 1745. His wisbis ami im. 
portant servieej were related lo the 
King in >757, by the Duke of Dcvon- 
'%hire, who ui^ed the leol he bod slmwn 
sn all DCCisiona to ^erve die public. 
The Duke, in a polite nole, thus in- 
formed Mr. Gideon of His Majesty's 
answer! " The King apcmed very well 
disposed, spoke very handsomely of 
you, and said lie should haie no objec- 
tion himself to oblige you, but was 
nfrud it would make a noise at this 
time (June IS, 1757), and, therefore, 
desired I would inform you in the 

nient for him to comply wilh your 
retjuest." 'iliough his application met 
witli a denial, he was slill the firm 
friend of the minislry ; and his wishes 
were in 1759 partly gratified, by the 
dignity of Ifonmet being conferred on 
his son OB the }9ih of May, in that 
year ; at the early age of fourteen. 

In the year 1753, be addressed the 
following letter to bis son, then a idiolar 
at Eton (at. I3)i which showed the 
amiable qualities of his heart : 

a good heart, and a dnjanl prmpeiT 
of underslaniliiig ; be Eleudy with the 
former, to (jod, lo yoar parents, nad 
to your King ; eileiid the second 'tv 
rtiose who Tthall deserve your esteein ; 
the btter wilf improve as yoo advancv 
in learning, whh.'h oiay be acquired by 
applicairon ; dierish and caltinM com- 
mtndable tatenK at your friends, and 
let impiety, pride, malice, and fotty, 
remain always strangers to youi breast. 

" Doubtless, by the many Gaieties 
published siuca November last, you arE 
acqtKUiited wifli the many ejploits of 
the great Kine of Prussia in Germany. 
The enclosed [Caietie] will infbrm yoD 
of those not less glorious. perGirmed by 
the brave Colonel Clite In India j com- 
pare their feats with those of oM, and 
conclude that miracles have not ceased' ; 
and (hat constancy and resolution in an 
honest cause may stilt relieve the ap- 
pressed, Rome had iU Casars. and 
Macedoii an Aleiander ; Prussia gavB 
birlh to a Frederick, and Eiighmd seut 
forth her Clive. 

" In whatever station Providence may 
hereafter plate yon, aci with spirit and 
honour, thul you may be acceptable to 
the [leopie and dear to your fkllier. 
•'SG.jun.Eton. SAUrsoH GinioB." 

This amiable man died of the dropsy, 
Oct. 1 763, aged 63, at bis elegant villu 
M Belvedere, where he bad boilC a nohfe 
saloon, and Rtted it up with pictures of 
the first inasiets. TTie collection was 

40 pi 




In one of hii tellers he says, " I w 
not give a ^ngle shilling for the best 
ci^m in the tmiverse. As to myself, I 
liad rather throw the money into the selL 
than employ it in such baubles." 

We shal I conclude this brief sketch of 
his Lordship's father by slating that he 
was a man of llie strictest integrity, and 
ptinetuAlity in all liis dealings ; an ex- 
cellent husband, father, and master ; for 
li^rallly and humanity, and for his ob- 
ince of the rules of the si ' 

ur, hew 

" DtAK-SoN, 

FiA- 16, 1758. 
. ' " I received your letter, aiyl think 
10 have discovered in it > dutiful mind, 

guisbed. llic instances of his hsmanity 
were numerous; and bis lenity and for- 
bearance were experienced by many ; 
bis severity by none. Though himserf 
of the Jewish pcrsuauon, he educated 
allhisdiildrenin the Established Church 
of England. 

On Iheithof December, J76G, the 
subject of this memoir married Maria- 
Marow Wilmot, eldest daughter of the 
Right Hon. ^r John Eardley Wilmol, 
Knt. Lord Chief Juitice of the Commoi^ 



Pleoit Wid hy Iter, who died Mwdi tst, 
I T94, hnd isiUD : Irt. 8ainp»n Eudley, 
born Dec. 39, 1T70; died unmarried. 
Ma; SI, I8S4 ; £. Williani, bom May 
•i'i, ins, a Colonel in the Army, died 
Sept. 17, JS05, unmiu-ried; 3. Maria. 
Mirow, marriej Sept. 3, 1794, Gregory 
Witliwn TwiEleion, Lord Say and Sele ; 
4iCharlDtte-Elixabedi, married Sept.US, 
1793, Sir Culling Smith, Bart, of Bed- 
well Park, Herts; 5. Selina, married 
June 36, 1T97, Colonel John Walbank 

In 1770, on Ihe. death of the Man]iii'i 
of Omnby, Sir Sam|Hon GiJeun vai 
returned Knight of the Shire for Cam- 
bridge, and again in 1774. At the 
grand contest in 1780, be waa the un- 
successful candidate againnt Lord Ro- 
bert Manners, brother to the Duke of 
Rutland, who diinl in 1782; and An 
present Eari of Hardwicke; but was 
elected for Midhursl, co. Sussex. He 
was subsequently returned lor Corentrj 
inlheparliamentsori7S4and 1790. 

In July 1789hecliangedhiBnnii]eby 
licence, tu Eardley, and iu theadininis. 
tration at Mr. Fitl, for his distinguish- 
ed loyalty, patriotism, and utlier virtues, 
oa Uie I Sth of November foitowing, waa 
created a peer of Ireland, by the name 
and tkle'of Baron Eardleyof Spalding, 
in the county oF Lincoln, 

His two SOUK liaving died before him, 
uoMarried, Ifie titles become eiiinct, 
but his Lordsliip's very extensive ustales 
in the counties of Cambridge, Hunting- 
don, Nonhampton, Lincoln, and Kent, 
devolve equally to his three daughters, 
VIE. the Baraness of Say and Sele, 
Lady Culling Smith, and the Honour- 
able Mis. Childers. 

His Lordslilp's remains wei'e re- 
moved from Brighton lo Crawley,, 
where they rested one night; from theuce 
across tlie country la Belvedere, where 
the body lay in state till it was con- 
veyed to the family-vault at Eriih. 

'Die following anecdote su much re- 
semble* the Iwnevoleuce of his amiable 
parent, that we cannot with justice pass 
it over. Some years ago a regiment 
was lying in the neighbourliood of Bel- 
vedere, his Lordship's seat in Kent. 
It having come to his knowledge tliat 
(he senior lieutenant, a most deserving 
young man, though without fortune, 
had not the lueani to purdiase a com- 
pany then vacant ; without any previous 
knowledge of Uie gentleman, except 
what he gained from the commanding 
and his brother officers, his Lordship 
urDtc hioi a letter of apology for taking 

the liberty of endostng a check liir 
1500 guinea!, Miieb was ttie purchaae- 
muiiey ofliie company. — Gent. Hag. 

ELMS, John, E.^. ofdie Middle 
Temple, Barrister at Law.M. A. F. S. A. 
and Deputy llecorder of Huntingdon, 
May 24, at Uarbadoes, whjtlier he had 
been advised to go for the benefit of bis 

Mr. Ellis was Ihesonofthe late John 
EUis, Esq. of Bedford-row, who, by 
means the most honourable, acquired 
an easy fortune in the Stock Ejchange: 
and whose original purpose it had liecn 
to educate his son in the same profes- 
sion. But tlie subject of this memoir 
early discovering an insatiable thint 
after knowledge, bis father judiciously 
gavtt way to this laudable ambition, and 
liberally supplied biin witli the means, 
(irst, of acquiring a critical knowledge 
of clossivdl literature, and afterwards 
of suppcH-ting himself at the Umversily 
of Cambridge, wl>ere, notwithstanding 
tbe impediments occasioned by ill 
health, he took his degrees with great 
reputation. Having chosen the profes- 
sion of the law, he entered as a student 
of the Honourable Society of Lincoln's 
Inn; anddevolinghimself with his ac- 
customed ardour to bis profesHonal stu - 
dies, and being in possesion of a large 
and well-cboien library, he made pro- 
gress beyond many of his contempo- 
raries ; aud when called to the bar, he 
entered upon his profcsson vrith attain- 
ments and iiualiScalions of a very su- 
perior order. He was likewise uu.. 
usually fortunate in bis coniienions : 
and being early introduced into pro- 
fessional engagements with the corpo- 
ration of Huntingdon, as a proof of 
the entire sali^bctinn of tliat respectalle 
body with bis abilities and etertious, ha 
was chosen l>y thetn their I^uty Re- 
corder. His prospects now assumed a 
most promising appearance ; and every 
succeeding year introduced him into 
new eoniiexionsBudincreawiig practice, 
while tlw suavity of his maimers, and 
his IHgh professional honour and inte- 
grity, bound all his prior connexions 
to him with iudissoluble lies. Nor waa 
it among the least of tills gentleman's 
merits, that tliough his abilities and 
success excited emulation, they nevir 
moved the envy of his professional 
brethren. It has bceo truly said of 
bim, that he never had an enemy. Ai 
l^ovidence had blnsed him with af- 
fluence, his table and library were 
always open, to his le^s tbrtmiale brt- 
llueu. And ^uch was the bdjht of hii 




vell-camed. teputatioD, aoA tfaa aqu- 
iiil; of his manaers, that be might na- 
sonably haie looked forward la the 
highest honours of bia profesnon. Bat 
the fatTgiic of hu^neas, and tiic ardour 
or hia miod, wbicb would not suffer 
(tim to reiai his eiertiooi from any 
tliiDghe'luid undertaken, gradually un. 

stroDKi and brought on a disease, wliich, 
insidious io its nature, often flattering 
in its appearance, but fatal and irre- 
Eistible in its progress, tenninatad his 
tuDOurablc and useful career, at tite 
^ly age of thirty-five, leaving not only 
■ broken hearted parent and mourning 
relatives, but also a profession and a 
public not insensible to such rising ea. 
cellence, to lament lua loss. — Genlh- 
tnan'i Magoshie. 

ELMSLEY, tlw. Bev. Peter D. D. 
Principal of St. Alhan Hall, and 
Camden Proressorof Ancient History, 
in the Univeraity of Oiford: at bis 
lodgings in St. Alban Hall. Oiford ; 
March 8 ; iu the SSnd year of bis age. 
Dr. Elmsley, iras burn in 177:!, and 
educated first at a school at Hampstc&d, 
and aficrwaids at Westminster. His 
eitraordinary proficiency in classical 
learning, caused him to be placed in 
the six^ ot highest foim at this semi- 
nary ; but he was precluded by his age 
from becmning a member of the founda- 
tion. It ffas, however,generally expect- 
ed, that a Etudentahip would have been . 
conferred upon by the Dean of Christ- 
church, and tliere is reason to believe 
that something lETy like a promise to 
tills eSect was made, which an infiuence 
not easy to be resisted in favour of 
another person had weight enough ts 
I fpisttate. Mr. Elmsley was equally 
unsuccessful in an attempt to obtain a 
Fellowship at Merton; and thus. leil 
the Univerwty of Oxford with none of 

reputatdoo for deep and eitentive learn- 
ing, which no uiider-graduate had for 
many years obtained. He was iti fact 
at that early age tar beyond what is 
commonly meant by instruction, and 
fit to bear a jiart as an equal in all lite- 

Upivcrsity had to produce. It is pos- 
sible, thattliis unusual inversion of the 
reUtive proportions between tlie rulers 
of a college and their pupils, which, 
free as he was from all vain glory and 
arrogance, it was not in bis nature to 
keep out of view, and which iudeed 
could Dot be concealed, might produce 

!X Fan 1835. 

loiae degt^ of jedeitsiF, and liitf n int 
some persons that cordiality of itgmii 
which lui virtues dcsGrved, il it did doI 
even tend to make them extenuate the 
pridse due to his intellectual ,pgver^ 
It miut be added, by way of eicuse as 
well as eiplanation, that Mr. Elmsley, 
waa rather unguarded in conversation, 
and possesaed a strong propensity Ur 
tase the ludicrous ptnnt of lievr, which, 
though accompanied with perfect good- 
nature uid beitevolence, is not a tolant 
in great favour with those who think, - 
not unjustly, that the snlMirdination and 
seriousness of a University cannot wcU. 
be maintained witliout somewhat more of 

nant to the general habits of the world- 
However this may be, it is certain that 
lie quitted Oiford with far less bvour- 
able imprcE^ons than those whidi came 
afterwards to occupy hia mind, and ta 
render that University for the latter 
years of his life, the object of his afiec- 
tionate solicitude, as well as his moat 
favoured residence. 

Mr. Elmsley took orders not long 
al^rwards ; proceeded M. A. in 1797* 
and was presented in 1798, by W. J. 
H. Blair, £sq. to little Horkesley, » . 
small cbapelry in Kssei, which he r^ 
tained to his death, but the whole 
emoluments of which, after ceatiog to. 
re^de there, he bestowed pa Ina curate. 
He never held any other preferawDt in 
the church. By the death irf' his uncl^ 
Mr. Peter Elmsley, the vell-knowB'' 
bookseller, he shortly afier inherited 
an independent fortune, which leftbim 
at liberty to devote lus mind to those li- 
terary researches which were its re- 
source and delight, especially to Greek . 
pbilology, whidi he soon chose as his 

life of a man of letters, thus independent 
in fortune, and tranquil in character, 
cannot be expected to furnish much in- 
formation. Mr. Elmsley resided for. 
some time at Edinburgh, and became 
intimately acquainted with the distin-. 
guisbed young men who set on foot 
the i^dinburgh Review in I80S. To 
this publication he contributed several 
articles in Greek liten^ture ; the Cri- 
tique on Heyne's Homer in the ilh 
number, on Sclii^eighauser^s Athensus 
in the 5tb, on Bioomfield's Prometbeus 
in the 35th, and on Porsons's Hecuba, 
in the 37ih ; there may pottihly be 
others of which we are not immedataly 
aware. In the Quarterly Review be 
wrote ao article onlUaAIaiid'a Sup- 




uot parliculuiie. The only imUnce 

of bis taking up the pea for tht piiqwati 
of publicuion, dd ui; but a pbilif- 
logiral subject, as far is we know, was 
in a Critique of Lord Clarendon's 
Religion anil Policy, in tbe SSth num- 
ber of tbc Edinbuigli Iteviev. His 
more oilensibia contributions to dasai- 
cal literature are well knfwn ; an edi- 
lioD of tlie Aetumanei in 1809 ; of tbe 
(Edipus Tyranniu in lilll; of tbe 
Ileraclids in 1815; of the Medea in 
1S18 ; of the Bacchae in 1S21 ; and 
bstlyoftiieCEdipusCDloneuiin 1823. 
These publications eatabliched his fame 
tiirougbout Europe aa a judicious critic, 
aud consummate master of the Greek 
language. Without entering intu com- 
parisona, which must always be invU 
dioUB, and for which tbe present >rriter 

very first class of scholars whom thia 
country has produced in this adranced 
age of philological reseiu^;bes. Awaie 
ot'tlio uncertainty of conjecture, be wsa 
vajrs diffident of correcting the text 



>e rernarked, because of one at least 
of tlie drauiatiats wbo chiefly occupied 
his attention, Sophocles, be entertained 
a very low opinion of the existing 
manuscripta, which he belieied to have 
been all uanicribed from, or corrected 
by, a Codex Archetypua, itself written 
about the Ttli century, •rhen tbe puHty 
of the Athenian idiom had ceased to be 
understood. This judgment, howCTer, 
was not hastily formed; no maji sub- 
initled more patiently to tlie drudgery of 
colUtion, or was more aniiaus to avail 
Inroself'of all the asustance which the 
great European reposborics of manu- 
scripts afToid. It was in a considerable 
degree for this purpose that Mr. Elms- 
ley visited France and Italy severe^ 
times, and spent the entire winter of 
18IB in the Laurentian Library at 
Mr. Ehniley lived a few years, after 
bis return ttom Edinburgh, in Gower 
Street; but in 1R07 took a bouse at St. 
Uary Crsy; ncrificing the allurements 
of London society for the sake of bis 
mother and some other relatives, to 
whom a country residence was more 
eligible. He continued in the midst of 
a polished and hospitable neighbour- 
bood, to whom bis eicellcnce of diipo- 
aitioD and lively wit rendered him tbe 
object of liigb esteem and attachment, 

and .in the enjoyment of a learned Iri- 
■lUY, till I8I6, when he set out on a 
tour to Italy. Familiar in an eitraor. 
dinary degree with modem history, and 
all the information subsidiary to it, and 
endowed with a minute curioiily as ta 
all the details of such subjects, be felt a, 
strong relish fur foreign travel. Seldom 
with a companion, still more seldoin 
with a servant, be wandered throu^ 
eelebrated scenes, adding rnnfi mian j 
to his immense store* of accumulated 
knowledge, nther, indeed, tbrough the 
eyethsn the ear; for be associatedlittle 
with foreigners, notwithstanding his ac- 
curate acquaintance with the Flench 
and Italian languages. He letumed la 
England in ISIT, and then took up his 
abode at Oxford, which be now deter- 
mined to make bis permanent residence. 
In 1818 be went again to Italy; and 
»ftBr returning in the spring of 1819, 
was ea^ly persuaded to accept a sort 
of commission from our government, 
jointly with Sir Humphrey Dav;, to 
superintend the developement irf' the 
papyri found at HercuUneum. It wilt 
be remembered, that more sanguine 
hopes were entertained than the experi- 
ment realized, tliat the genius of this 
illustrious chemist might overcome tbe 
obstacles which had liitherto prptented 
those interesting volumsa from being 
unrolled. But as it was of high im, 
poilonce that no time should be jja- 
necesssrily wssted in an (^ration whid) 
mutt, on any supposition, be tedious, 
Mr. Elmsley was relied upon to direct 
the choice of manu scripts, as soon as bjf 
partially laying them opep, the conteota 
and character oF each should be deter, 
wined, l^e eiperimeat, as is well 
known, proved wholly abortive ; and 
Sir. Elmsley returned to England ii| 
1S30; but having imprudently exposed 
himself too much to the best, he was 
«sized with a severe fever at Turin, from 
which, it is probable, the subsequent 

!Iliough for some time nothing occurred 
materially to alarm his frieodB, he was 
more fre<]ueDtly indisposed than before, 
and from the dale of a tour he took in 
Germany, during the summer of 1833, 
the apparent commencement of an or- 
ganic disease of tbe heart may be traced, 
which ultimately deprived the world of 
this eminent scholar. AAer his return 
from Italy, he lived almost wholly at 
Oxford ; h« took tbe dc^ee of Doctor 
in Divinity, became Principal of Alban 
Hall, and Camden Prolcsaor of Historj 




in )8'^3, and ms jiutly eipccted to 
■ucceetl on the next vacanc; of ■ Ci- 
Doni; of Chiin Church. 

lliaugh Dr.Elmile; mtia be cfaieSj 
kDawn to the public ■■ ■ Greek critic, 
h wat by no meani in thia department 
6f leariiiiig that his dnlidei and acquire- 
mcnta were moit extraoidinary in ths 
ejei of his friends ; and some of them 
have frequently regretled that he should 
have confined himself, in what be meant 
for the worid, to so narrow a walk as 
that of coitating manuscripts, and at- 
tempting to restore the teit of a few 
liajfeiies. He certainly did not oier- 
valuB the importance of this very limited 
province of piuloiogy, which the con- 
spicuous niccesa of one great scholar 
Iwa rendered perhaps too eiclusiveiy 
fiuhion^le among those who aim al it 
repulftdon for classical learning ; jet, 
from whatenr cause, he was content to 
pass several years in a species of labour 
' ' ' ly the least, did not call into 


I of his I 

impart to others hii 

general knowledge. JJe was proh^ly 

the best eccleUMtical scholar in Eng- 

wiih all the hiaiory of religious opinion, 
except, perhaps, for the present times, 
and witli all the details, however trifling, 
connected with the several churches of 
Christendom. Few priests of tliat of 
Rome could better know their owD dis- 
cipline and ceremonies, which be could 
explain with a distinctnets and accuracy 
altogether surprising, and characteristic 
of his retentive memor)', and the clear 
arrangemeDt' of bis knowledge. He 
was almost equally at liotne in the civil 
inMitutions and usages of diflerent 
countries and in every species of histo- 
rical information, never pretending to 
knowledge that he did not' possess, but 
ruely found deficient in the power of 
sniwering any question. This astonish- 
ing comprehensiveneia and exactitude 
of learning was united to s sound and 
clear Judgment, and an habitual impar> 
^ity. Averse to all that wore the ap- 
pearance of pasaioD, or oven of as much 
zeal as men of lees phlegmatic temper- 
anients csnoot but mingle with their 
opinions, he was generally inclined to a 
middle course in speculation as well as 
practice, and looked with philosophical 
tmntjnillity an the coDtending factions, 
religious or politicnl, whom history dis- 
played to him, or whom he witnessed in 
his own age. If he spoke with asperity 
or roarkcd contempt of any, it wu <^ 

ofajecta of > 
vdn of pleasantry, wherein he parti- 
cularly excelled. For it would hardly 
be suspected, by those who have only 
heard of Elmsley as an eminently la- 
borious philologist, that bis liveliness 
of imaginetii^, and readiness of wit, 
were as remarkable as his learning. 
I'hose who had the good fortune to en- 
joy his intimacy, and preserved it by 
correspondence, can best bear witned 
to these diatinguisliing ijualities. His 
letters, especially those written during 
his travels, weri; rich in a diffused iju 
comica, a perpetual liveliness, mqie de. 
lighil'ul than the occasional sallies of 
professed wits ; his niumpt memory 
suggesting quotations and illustrative 
allusions from all ancient and modem 
literature. In thia quick perception of 
tbe ludicrous, and in bis fandnens for 
comedies and oiher light reading, as 
well as in his erudition andsajpiciiy.he 
bore a resemblance to Person. But 
none of die blemishes which alloyed tint 
great man's character could be imputed 
to Mr.Elmaley. Hia lifehad been uni- 
formly regular; and hia conversation, 
though entirely free from solemnly, 
strictly correcL In all the higher du- 
ties of morality no one could be nmn 
unblameable. His kindness towards^ 
hia family and fritnda, hia scrupulous 
integrity, his disdiun of every thing base 
and servile, were conspicuous to all h1>9 
had opportunities of observing bis rha- 

pUyed. The last months of hia life 
called fbrtli other qualities, which sup- 
port and dignify the hours of sorrow 
and suffering; a steady fortitude, that 
uttered no complaint, and betrayed no 
'-'—'- - Ith a calm a ■ " 


.f Chris 

losophy be had dways cultivated, to the 
pleasure of his Creator. — GenllemaiCt 

FAWKES, Walter, Esq. of Farn. 
ley Hall, Yorkshire ; at his house in 
Baker-street ; October 24 ; aged 50. 

Mr, Fawkes was returned a member 
for Yorkahh* at the general election in 
1B06, and retired from Parliament at 
the dissolution in the jmring of 180T. 
He aerved the office of Hi^ SbntiWoC 
tbe county uf Yoii, in U23. 



" On dw lOth of December IH^a, he 
had the miaTortuiie ta low hfi 6tst wiTe. 
He mamed, secondly, Jan uiiry 4, 18IS, 
the Hon, Mrs. Buller, daughter of J. 
Fernon, Esq. of Clantorp Cmlle, Co. 
Dublin, and lelict of Hon. P. Butler, 
third BOD of the Earl of CarHck. 

He vaa brolher to F. Hawksirorth, 
Esq. of Barmbro' Grange, >nd tbe 
Bev.A. Hawkaworth, of Leathley Hall, 
near Otley, whose deaths haie occuired 
within the short apace of iii months. 
Mr. Fawkm was a genllemui univer- 
>a)l; esteemed for his urbuuty, and 
most deservedly sunned the ctMracter 
of an eicellenC laodlonl as well as ii 
kind nuisCer. In his public career he 
was a firm supporter af the Whig inte. 
rest, and a strong advocate for Parlia- 
inentaiy reform. He was a grvat ad- 
mirer of the fine ana, and lud some 
plates of local views engraied at bis 
own eipence. He was the author, also, 
of two piiliticfll pamphlets, and uf a 
" CliroQology of the History of Modem 
Europe," -no. 1810. — Gmlleman't 

fOUNTAINE, Brigg, Esq. April 

20, at Swaffham, Norfolk, in his righty- 
secoiid jrear. 

In domestic life this amiable gentle- 
man displayed all tbe eicellences that 
could endear a man to his &mily and 
serrantB. To the widow, the tkther- 
less, tbe aged, and the infinn, his bounty 

: FOR 1825. 


sale, and its diitributioa extended Ittlla 
beyond a large cirda of acquaintance, 
a circumstance attributable only to ito 
being a too literal translation, net con- 
veying to the reader at) tlieapirit c^tiw 
original; hut when we conuder that 
the traoslalor had never visited tba 
country of tbe author, we may have 
some idea of the difficulties of the taik, 
and award due credit to tbe perseva- 
rance that enabled him to complete tba 
undertaking. It is a work still con- 
sidered valuable fbr tbe purity et its 
language, and uow becoming very 

Passionately fond of music, and an 
amateur perfbnner, Mr. Fountaine eva 
patroniEed the emuloua and irijscure 
professiH-, and had tbe aatisfacdou of 

Bucc^sful and grateful. At Batb, 
which he occasionally visted for the 
beneflt of bis health, he gratified his 
fnends with frequent concerts, engaging 
the must distinguished professors to 

. till 

: objects of 


death deprived them 
social life he was most hospitable ; his 
gentlemanly deportment, poUdied man- 
ners, habitual urbanity, and cultivated 
mind, secured to him tb* esteem and 
respect of his numeroiu fKendi ; bis 
well-stortd mind, replete with solid 
knowledge and anecdote, qualified him 
for the society of the great and the 
good ; and an eicellent memory, by 
help of which he could draw largely 
and appoutely from a rich stock of 
classic lure [and having lived through 
a long series of eventful years, could 
retlr to the various periods of their his- 
tory] made him a most instructiTe and 
agreeable companion. He was well 
versed in the andent classics, and was 
conversant with tbe French, Italian, 
Spanish, and German languages. He 
published in 1805 a translation from 

hard at Ficki, Corrili, Haydn, and 
other celebrated composers ; and occa- 
sionally afllbrd to his leas criticising 
country neighbours a very delightful 

For many yesia he amused himself 
with sationomy, having built on ol>- 
servotory near bis iminsjon (Narfbrd 
Hill) ; and lie corresponded with tbe 
Ute Sir William Herschell and Dr. 
Maskelyne, the lattOT of whom visited 
him. He was alw one of tbe race of 
old English gentlemen who preserve 
the anient sport of hawking. 

His love of literature and music 
made him regardlaas of laundiiiig into 
public life, particularly of aspiriag to a 
■eat in the senate, althinigh bewasper- 
euaded at the general aloction in lTB4to 
offer himself as a candidate for King'a 
Lynn 1 — lie was not returned. He 
served the office of sheriff Ibr Norfolk in 
1 775, and was for many years an active 
■ ig justice 

impartial an dm 


d; his friendly 

s, prolfered in the tr 
of s medislor, olten appeased the dis- 
sentions of those who appeared before 
bim ; and before the iron band of time 
bad crippled his activity, he was ever on 
the ^ert to shield tbe oppressed. 

His remains were interred in tbe fa- 
mily vault at Narford. He has left ona 
son, his only surviving child. — GetiUe- 
ptan't JWnfonne. 



GEAKY, Sir WtUiuD, Bart. Di- 
r«(er«f Grvuiiwicli Hwpital, and raaiiy 
JIMIB BiqiKwnMlive in ParliiwieDt lor 
Kant; Aug. 6; at OxfnheaiU, Kuut; 
^td 79. Sir Williacp Geuy wm the 
Wtwnt) and eldest liiing Ku uT Sir 
i\fWiriN> firal baroiMl, bjr Maiy, oalj 
ciuU, of AdmiTHl PbiJip Iiar:halDiiisw, 
oTKeat, iibq. 

tin die death 9f hi) falber ill IVQG Ik 
lucoeeded ui ilie title, and having come 
into iHisegsiaD of a large properly in 
light of his mother, settii^ ut Oii^nlwatb 
IVk, one of the nuKl delightful ijiut-i 
in Enghuid.fiigeiy turrou tided l>y wood&, 
intcnperscd .with bop (ilanUlious, as 
well a> ebeiry orchards aiiil at txi great 
ttiMance from tfaebonkt of llw Medway. 
Id 1796 he aspired to be a member 
for the couDty in which be had taiien up 
Ilia reaideoce ; aud accordingly prEsentsd 
hiuiKlf as a candidaiu, aC tlie awe time 
wilb Sir Edward Kualchbull, and Fil- 
nicr Hooywood, K«]. Xha contest con- 
tinued during nine days, at the end of 
irliich he was second on the poll, having 
4418 voles- Filmer Honywood, Kt^., 
the UDStuxeuftil candidalo, ami uierdt 
a£ the sitctora, petitioned against Sir 
WUlUm's election. On the Sth of 
Hay, 1 797, the diumian of the rom- 
nine*, Aat tried the dectiiin, rtjioiled 
M IbaHoaae, tbat Sir William was 
duly eluctcd, and that the petition was 
not Mndou* or veiatious. lu- 1797, 
whan be declared his dissent from Mr. 
Grejt'aplas of Parliamentiry Heforo^ 
" aa being toe nearly allied la Universal 
SuBVage," Sir William suggested a 
plan of bii awn, which waa to divide 
the country inio districts, each of which 
m\gbli send eaa MBmlwr to Parliamenl, 
triw could be rieoKd at little or no ex- 
pease by thme wba paid poor's rates to 
the amouiit of lOj. or 801. He con. 
ddered the election hy ballot " as the 
only radical cure to the many evils we 
caperienced, more especially as it led to 
a good and substantial melioration," 

Jn ISOS he <»ice more oSeied hit 
serricB, and hiving polled 4085 wai 
again relumed, the books having been 
kept 6pen dtiriog the same period as 
brfar c L Filmar Hoaywood, Esq., Ihe 
BiBBCceiafal candidate in the tormer 
eleclifRi, was reCumed with hina, to the 
delusion of Sir E. Knitcbbull tbe auc- 
oeaful candidate at Ihe said flection. 
In ISOS, wbin the astablisbmeat of the 
Prince of Wafes was broti^t hefora the 
House by Mr. Calcrali, Sir William 

ipokc in favour of an immediate re- 
sumption ol'ilic splendour of the tieir ap- 
parent. Jn the following session lie 0|>- 
posed Mr. Wilbeiforce's propobitiuD lijr 
an abolition of tbe Slave Trade, provided 

diately, as it would be only a transfer of 
misery to Iht n^roes, who nottld be 
exported by other natioua. Uuthel3lh 
I'f Jail. ISIO, Ije Bmrried Mrs. Deriog, 
daughter of Ritliatd Nevilh;, of Fur- 
nace, CO. Kildare, Etq., and relict of 
Edward Dering, Bu^., eldest son of 
Sir Edward luring, Bart and had 
issue a -on, born Nov. :iO,I(jiO, and 
anolher son, burn ia April 1819. — 
(itnile/nuHl Magacine. 

GIDDY, Thomas, esq.; July iiK, 
at i'emancB, in Corawitl ; 'aged 84. 
He was horn on tlie Utti of October, 
1741. (O.S.J — ^tiie youngest son of 
Mr. John Giddy, of Treluyae, ncar 
Truro, and brother of the Uei. Edw. 
Giddy of St. Erih, the lather ot Uaviea 
Gilbert, est). M.P. lor Bodmin. His 
chuucai educatiou he owed to thai ex- 
cellent roaster of the gramroor-Bchool at 
Truro, Mr. George Cuihhi; and svcb 
was his ardour in the pursuit of know.* 
ledge, diat in running the school-boy's 
race, he soon left all compeciton behind 
Lini. His early inclinauon was to the 
church J but as one of tbe family was 
already destined for liie clerical prafes- 
siun, he was (ilaced with Mr. George 
Treweck, at Peniance, with whom he 
acquitted himself to the entire satisfav- 
tion of that eminent surgeon. Nor was 
it less gratifying to observe his assiduity 
in attending the hospitals, and lecturtv 
on the diflerent brandieB of medical 
science, in London. Amoni; Ihe cele- 
bratod men of that day were Dr. Hugh 
Smyth and Dr. William Hunter; and 
of Huntei't splendid abiliUL-s, bolb as a 
lecturer and an orator, Mr. Gid4y spoke 
alwqrs with pleasure. From London 
returning to liii tuuive coiiniy, Mr. 
Giddy commenced his medical career at 
Truro, and not long after married Marj, 
daughter of Mr, Jolm Wolcoi of Pen- 
tyn, who was nearly related to Dr. John 
Wtdcot, the notorious Feler Pindar. 
She is now tbe last lineal descendant of 
tbe Wolcots. His professional skilt 
was soon appreciated and crowaed with 
success. About ten years he resitted at 
Truro j whence, owing to a pulmonary 
afieclion, be removed, in 1T74, to I'en- 
sance, ^ climale mtwe congenial, where 
he had fbnnerly enjoyed uninlerrupted 
healtli. When ba left Truro he waa af). 
parentiy In the last stage of pulmonary 

Tet from Ihal lime e«en 
a tbe age of 81, he paiwd bis life 
without tbe leatt eompkint, ncept 
■light eagual attacks of gout. — In 17BS 
be was adtnitled arnember of the car- 
poration of Peruance ; be held the ofllte 
of cbief magisttBte of tbe town no lea 
than ten times, an event probably un- 
precntented in a chatter similartj con- 
stituted, where no mayor can stand over 
for two years togedier. During his 
mayoraltieB two additions were made lo 
the chapel yard ; and be had the honour 
of attending Bisliopa Ross and Pelbam 

of the town becoming twice vacant, it 
fell to bis lot to swear tbe late and pre- 
sent Lorda Falmouih into that office. 
In 179% wbendte country nas deluged 
with tbe efl\id<H» of J>ine, Volney, and 
Other Deiatical writert, assisteil 1^ cor- 
responding societies in league with re< 
publican France, with the liew of in- 
troducing anarchy among mankind and 
all its train of evils, for flie counter- 
acting of which a society was established 
in London at tbe Crown and Anchor 
Tavern, called " the Society for pro- 
tecting Liberty and Property against 
Republicans and Levellers," Mr. Giddy 
came forward a champion in the cause 
of sound religion and good go'era* 
ment ; ■ very eilensira branch was 
formed at Feniance by his eiertions, 
•nd many valuable tract) obtained and 
circulated tbrougfa the neighbourhood. 
He was a redring, unnbtrmive charac- 
ter : yet be enjoyed society ; an<i from 
hit comprehensive mtml and literary 
acquirements he was eagerly sougbt 
after by tboM irtn were acquainted with 
bi* Bocid falelita. In conviviat meet- 
ings tie was Uvely and enterlahiing ; 
and amidst genuine wit, vriiich was sure 
to excite mirth and bilarity, be was not 
ao fasticUou* as to despise a puo, how- 
ever low a pun may be in tbe eye of 
piEtended wisdom. But never did he 
use an expnsnion to wound tbe feelings 
of those with whom beconversed. His 
iinnd wai of that firm clssa that no 
Irritalion cquld, for a moment, throw 
bim offhis guard. In domestic life he 
was an aflbetionate husband, a kind pa- 
rent, and ■ friend ready to submit to 
any prltation to promote die wel&re of 
Olimt. To sum up the whole, be was 
tmaOsetedly teamed, unostentatiously 
benevolent. Inuovubn be disliked in 
any ibape ; but he was not a faigol. 
And of hisOfrininubeinadennpopiiWr 

I 1825. 


display. His religion was Iha religion 
ofdieheart. ~It was built, indeed, upon 
a thorough knowledge of those sacred 
truths which were sealed by the blomi 
of his Kedeemer. Thus tlien, he lived, 
" dmng justice, loving mercy, and walk- 
ing humbly with his God." And Iw 
died as he had lived; far be died a 
Christian 1 — GenllemaH's Magaxme. 

GLA8TONBURY,tbc Right Hon. 
James Grenville, first baron of Butley, 
Somerset, u Privy Councillor, and a 
Lord of Trade and Foreign Plant- 
ations ; April ae i in Hill-strcct, Ber- 
keley-s)]uare ) in his S.Sd year. Hi-i 
iordiihip was born July 6, 1743, the 
second son of James Grenville, Ekq. 
by Mary, daughter and heir of James 
Smytli, Esq. of Harden, Herts. His 
father was tlie third son of Richard 
Grenville, Esq. of Wootton, by Hester, 
Countess Temple; and was a Lord of 
the Treasury, Cirflerer of Ilia House- 
hold, Privy Councillor, &c. 

Mr. James Grenville, jun. waa first 
elected lo tbe House of Commons aa 
member for Think, on a writ dated 
Deo. 17, 1766, he than taking the plaiw 
of hi) uncle, tlie Hon. Henry Gren- 
ville, who was made a Commiaiioner of 
tba CustOBW. At the general election 
in 1 76S, tha family appear to have IcM 
their imetesl in that boraugh, as Vice- 
Admiral Sir Thomas Pmklaiid, San, 
then returned wilbout cmtest both mem- 
bers (himselfai»lliUI>roliier],asb(aiHl 
his son have over since. Mr. JaiHes 
Grenville, hswerer, again entered the 
House in 1770, as member for Bu(k- 
logfaam town, on tha death of anottivr 
uncle, the Hon. George Grenville. In 
17*Bhewii»roadealoni ofthe treasury 
and a privy oauadllor. He was r». 
cboscB for Bucifingham at tile general 
elections of 1704 and ITSOj but in De- 
cember that year was induced to accept 
the Btewardryof tbe Chiltern Hundreds 
for tbe purpose of succeeding to the te- 
presentation of tbe coanty, aud sugiply- 
ing die place of his Srst cousin the se. 
eretary of state, then created Baroii 
Grenville. He was again returntd for 
Buckinghamshire at tbe general eleciiou 
of 1796, but retired in July 1797, by 
againaecepting the Chiltern Hundreds, 
and October 30 fallowing waa bimseir 
advanced to tbe peetage by tbe title of 
Baron Glastonbury of Butley, cMriiiy 
Somerset, with remainder lo hit only 
surviving brother Richard, a geneml in 




lordiliip nor liit brother wu ever mar- 
ried, and hia brother haling died before 
him, April 2Z, 1833, the title becomes 
extinct. — Genllenum't Magasine. 

GRAHAM, Sir Jsmei, Butt., of 
KirkMll, Yn-kihire, in Portland FUce, 
inhhTSd ym. Sir J«mes m* member 
oT parliament for CurJiile. There had 
been a visible decline in his health far 
a year before bis decease ; but a relax- 
ation (itim his usual attendance on pub- 
lic business, and the renovating breeaes 
of Brighlon, were (houj^ht to have ope- 
rated >n far favourabljr as to allar all 
apprehension of ininietliate danger. This, 

in a lellerwritten from Brighton lieei- 
preKied himself with great chcerfulneffl, 
and de«mheil bis health as mucli im- 
proved. The charMler of Sir James 
Graliam, public oiprivate, was as mucli 
above the compass of haaljr panegyric, 
Bsitwasabove selfishness and hypocrisy. 
Me was an active and useful public man 
in forwarding all the improvements of 

of the cmnmunity. Thougfa occupying 
■ atatioD which often (wa had nearly 
said necamwily) calls forth the rancoar 
of party hoalility, yet be bad not, per- 
hain, a real inemy. lu every relation 
of lift be wu exenplary. Ai • public 
■enran^ discharging the duties of ■ to- 
luDtary and honorary trust, he was ever 
ready with advice and assistance. He 
never slopped to inquire to what party 
the applicant belonged ; to require hij 
aid In a just cause wat to obtain it. 
Every improvement of the city of Car- 
lisle received his commendation, and 
called forlb his pecuniary aid : the pub- 
lic dtaritjea liberally partook of his 
bounty ; he neglected nothing, calcu- 
lated to promote the wel&re of his na- 
tive county. Sir James was the second 
son of Tfaomaa Graham, Esq. of Ed- 
mond Castle, near Carlisle, and bom at 
that place, on the latli c^ November, 
IT5S. He vras created a Baronet in 
OctDberlBOB. In June ITSl, he mar- 
ried Anne, only daughter of the Rev. 
TbomasMoore, of KirksMll, (sole heir. 
ess of her only brother, Major Thomas 
Moore, of the 4th regiment of cavalry, 
who died, unmarried, in 1734,) lieir- 
general-of the family of Arthington, of 
Artfaington, in the county of York, and 
also one of the co-heiresses of tiie family 

and who were formerly of Sandtord- 
upoa-ljlden, county of Westmoreland), 
by whom he had issue three sons aod 
two daughters, of whom one son and 
one daughter alone survive : Sandfcsd. 
who succeeds to the title, &c. ; and the 
Ijtdj of Colonel Dalrymple, M. P. for 
Appleby, Lady Uraham died about 
tbreB yean ago. —A™ iltmlld!/ Sfaga- 

G HAVES, Mr. Robert ; Si-ptemlier 
S j al his house in the Hamp-ttad-road ; 
aged 56. Mr. tiraves wai well knowt 
fot li ■ ■■■ 



the fine at 
He wa* the son of Mr. Robert 
Gmves, of Catharine-street, in the 
Strand, wbuse most curious collection 
of Booksand Ptintiiwere sold after his 
deatJi in I80S by Me^tsrs. Luigh and 
Sotiieby, and Mr. King, in a. sale of 
more tlian SO days. — The subjecj of 

navy ia early life, and during several 

parti of the globe; but the bias of bis 
mind inclining totlie arts, he withdrew 
from Ibe navy, and commencvd a close 
application to chakogntphy. At the 
sale of his father's extensive collection 
he commenced the forming of a series 
of engravings, which he continued for 
several years, end rendered it nearly 
complete in tbe finest works of the dif- 
ferent achools. This Mr. Grans sold 
in 1SI3 to Mr. Woodburn; and they 
have since been dispersed among die 
dtSereiit great collections. Aflerhaving 
disposed of this, which bad been tbe la- 
bour of many years, he persevered in 
bis favourite purauit, and until within 
a few days of bii death he continued to 
add to his store*. 

work, which at present remains uopub- 
lisbed, a biograpbjcsl catalogue of all 

sited England, or are materially con- 
nected with English history, extracted 
from almost all possible sources of in- 
formation. It was begun by tbe late 
Joseph Gutuan, Esq. who employed 

tract from works in all languages the 
names of those connected wiih this ob- 
ject, and since bis death continued 6rsl 
by Mr. Graves's father, and then by 
himself. It contains also a description 
of aJl tbe engraved portraits (in tbe 
manner of Bromley) known to exist of - 
such distinguialied characters. He bos 




IKi'wtse left manj other MSS. relnlive 



n (quailed the Jeceuml for 
acuteneu of judgment, good tasle, snd 
dwp liistorical knowledge ; hJs opinion 
was so unWenally allowed in re^rd to 
engming^ tliat almost all the celetirat- 
cd collcetioni sold of late jetrs by pub- 
lic auttion were »ubmill«t to him for 
arrangement ; amongst many others, the 
cataloguea of Il)Ul^ Townley, Hindley, 
Dowdfxvell, and Sir Mark Sykes, at- 
test his superior intelligence, which con- 
iributeil greatly i 


great ai 

■' An Examination oftlw I.eaJing Prin-. 
ciple of the New System uf Murals, as 
that luinciple is staled and applied iti 
Mr. God vrin'sEnqniry concerning Poli- 
tical Justice, London, 1T9S," 8td. ; 
second edition 1799) and '■ Extracts 
from the Diary of* Lover of Literature. 
Ipswich, ISIO." 4to. — Genllcman'i 

GaEGSON,Jobn Leigh, Esq. stu- 
dent of Trinity College; at Camhri'lge: 
Nov. ^3d, 1S:j4i aged 21. Mr. Greg- 
son was ibe ton of the late JUaltliiw 
Gregson, esq F. S.A. o( Liverpool. 

to portraits led Ids eye with certaitity 
Lu netermine llie resemblance, and many 
hundred sui;h original pictures have been 
ascertained by his diligence and study. 
Hi» death is much regretted by his nu- 
tneroui family and friends. — Grille 
niJiH*! Mitgasine. 

GREEN, Jliomas Esq January G, 
at Ipswich, moat sincerely lamented, in 
hii 56lh year. 

Educated for the bar, but induced 
by the eauness of bis circumstances to 
withdraw himself from its toils, Mr. 
Green had acquired a professional liabit 
of research, which gave weight to his 
opinions, especially those which had re- 
ference to constitutional law. liemoyed 

n thoae hopes and fears wbiih may 

ing the brain, proceeded with dreadful 
rapidity, until tlje disease, in about ten 
days from bis first attack, terminated 

I attendance, I 

t all huniji 
o slion 

of other n 

eed was 

it sprung froi 

profound knowledge of events, which 
had led to the establishment of the 
liberties of bis country, both dtii and 
religious, and was uplield by an ar. 
dent admiration of the principles on 
which those liberties are founded. To 
this spirit of research and steadfast de- 
votion of mind, to the ennobling senti- 
menta which the love^f freedom inspires, 
Mr. Gicen liad united literary attain- 
ments of tite highest order, and an in- 
tunale acquaintance with the fine arts, 
in the knowledge and relish <^ which he 
bad not many superiois. A polite and 
reHoed deportment, which instinctively, 

with the sdiolar, and above all a kind 
and friendly disposition, endearing him 
to those wIki knew him best, and giving 
fervency to hia charitable feelin|^s to- 
wards all mankind, were tlie qualities 
which moat of his ndghbours could ap- 
preciate, aii3 therefore few mistake. 

He was th^ author of the following 
works ; — "The Micthodion, or a Poe- 
licol Olio, London, 1788," 12mo. ; 

the period of serious indisposition, lliai 
his afflicted sisters did not leach Cam- 
bridge till two days after bis death. He 
was a most amiable and excellent young 
man, very kind and attentive to hi^ 
sitters, and promLwd to be a comfurt 
and huiiuur to his family. Tlieir Iias 
is therefore proportionably great. — 
Gfitilemaji'i Mngaaite, 


HALDANE, Lieut.-Col. Henry. 
It. E. in Februaty last. 

Tins officer commenced his military 
career at the Royal Military Academy 
at W<)()lKich, March 1st, 1768, where 
be was appointed cadet by the Marquess 
of Granbyi and April 1st, 1771, be 
was appointed ensign in the corps of 
Engineers. Until 1776 he continued 
in Great Britain on dn^ as an engin- 
eer ; some part of the time at tlie forts 
in the north of Scotland, and a part of 
the time in Ibe new works then crcciin;; 
for the defence of Portsmouth .lock- 
yard. In that year he embarked for 
America, and in the autumn joined the 
army in the field under the command of 
Sir W. Howe, and was present in tlie 
action of the White Plains towards tlie 
close of the year. He continued on 
duty with the armies in the field, and 

The first day's march after tbe landing 
of tlie army in tlie Chesapeake in 1 777 
being with the advanced corps of thb 
army, be was wounded, and obliged lo 



return to tbe ships; but fie joined it 
■gain in the Delaware, and was present 
at [lie capture of tlie fort on Mud- 
Island, wbich obstrucled the passage of 
the stups to PJiiladelphia. Fart of the 
Jears IT7B and I7T9 lie was garrisoneit 
at New York, where he [acted as an 
aid-de-camp to the commandant of 
that place, as well as performing his 

Towards the end of 1 779 he embarked 
with the army from New Yorii on the 
expedition against Charlestown, where 
be serviNl as an engineer during the 
whole siege ; and after the surrender of 
that place joined the arm^ in the field 
under Lord Cornwallia, who remained 
in command of the arm; lefl in (he Ca- 
Tolinas, and who appointed him extra 
aid-de-camp in his family. After the 
■ctioQ of Camden, In Carolina, in Aug. 
1780, his lordship made favourable 
mention of this officer in his public let- 
ter to the Secretary of State ; and after 
the severe action at Guildford Court- 
House, in March 1781, in which our 
small army, condsting oal; of 1360 in- 
fimtry, including a company of Yagers, 
■nd about 2C0 cavalry, and being op- 
posed to at least 7tX)0 of tlie enemy, 
had about 700 men killed and wounded 
upon the grouod; his lordslup recom- 
mended turn for one of the vacant tieu- 
tenancies in the Guards, that corps hav- 

Zauffered considerably in the action, 
DO ensign being . present except 
Enn^ Stuart, who, being in Carolina 
on his private al&iia, had volunteered 
bis services with the detachment of 
Guards serving in the Carolinas. He 
continued in the same situation with 
I^rd Cornwallis until tbe unfbrtunate 
close of the campaign at York Town,' 
in' Virginia, in Oct. 1781, when the 
British returned prisoners of war to 
New Yorl, and from thence he accom- 
panied bis lordship to England. 

From 1783 to 1785 he was employed 
as engineer in Jersey, whence he was 
removed to the new works constructing 
in the vicinity of Gosport ; but in 1786, 
Lord Cornwallis being appointed Go- 
vernor-General irf India, hia lordship 
did him the honour lo invite him to ac- 
company him thither. In May 1786, 
he sailed with Lord Cornwallis for In- 
dia; and upon their arrival at Madras 
Ui lordslup appointed hink his private 
secretary, and to be one of his aides- 

Upon die war breakinf out with Hp- 

PHICAt IND«* FOR 1823. 

^ Snltaun, Lord Cornwall!* look Ihs 
comtiiand of the army serving against 
thsC Prince ; and the deceased accom- 
panied his Lordship, and was witli him 
in all his actions, ^eges, and military 
Operations. Soon after Lord Corn- 
wallis nominated Captain Haldane to 
the office of Quarter-Master- General 
of His Majesty's forces in the East 
Indies, vacant liy Major Grattan's death, 
and his Lordship at tbe same lime re- 
quested for him the brevet rank of 
Major, and his Majesty confirmed these 
appointments. The war with Tippoo 
Sultaun being terminated, Jxrrd Com. 
wallis returned to Bengal, whitlicr Ma- 
jor Haldane accompanied him. In the 
following year, 1793, Lord Cornwallis 
embarked for England ; Major Haldane 
did not leave Bengal till some months 
aftKT, and did not arrive in England 
till tbe end of April, IT94. He re- 
ceived the brevet of Lieut. Colonel, 
April 13th. 1795. In August that 
year, the commanding engineer at Gib- 
raltar having resigned his situation. 
Lord Cornwallis made Lieut.. Colonel 
Haldane an olfer of it, leaving its ac- 
ceptance entirely optional- For reasons 
not necessary to detail here, he begged 
his Lordship's permis^on lo decline it ; 
but towards tbe latter end of 1795 he 
was appointed a Member of the Com- 
mittee of Engineers assembled at the 
Tower. On this duly he continued till 
theendof 1796, when finding hb health 
much impaired, he requested his Lord- 
ship would permit him to retire upon 
(he Invalid establishment of the corps 
Of Royal Engineers, to which request 
his Lindship acceded. By this removal 
his brevet promotion ceased. It Iiad 
hitherto been an invariable practice in 
the corps under the military deportment 
of the Ordnance, that those officers who 
had either regimental or brevet'rank of 
field officer on tbe Invalid cstabHsfament, 
riiould be continued in Ae future brevet 
proinolioD of the army ; but in the ge- 
neral brevet promotion of April, 1802, 
tbe name of this officer was omitted. — 

Admiral of the Red; March ISth; 
his seat, Y\r Hill, near Drftnfbrd, Hauls, 
^ed 77. 

He was son of Lord Anne Hamilton 
(so named from his godmother Queen 
Anne), thirdandyoungettsonof Jsmea 
4th Duke of Hamilton, by his secmid 
vriffa Elnnbelh, daughter and sole heir 




oT Dlgby, Lerd Gensnl of Brcanlcy ; 
his mother wu Mar;, dsugliter and sole 

heir of Powell, Etq. 

This officer obtained post rank M>y 
18th, 1T79, and commanded the Apollo 
frigate at tbe close of the American war. 
In 1793 he vita appointed to the Ca- 
nada, of 74 guns ; on the fith November 
in the following yc-ir, that ship, in com- 
panj with the Alerander of the ftame 
force, commanded by the late SirRichard 
Rodney Bligh, having escorted the Lia- 
bon and Medilenanean convoys to a 
certain distance, and being on their 
return to port, felt in with a French 
Bqnadron under Rear Admiral NeuiUy. 
By the Euperior sailing of the Canada, 
Captain Hamilton, alter su^uining a 
running; Bght with two ^ps of the line 
- and a frigate, wa« enabled to e«^-I his 
escape ; but the Aleiander bad the nii^ 
fortune to be captured al^r a most 
gallant defence of three hours duration 
■gaiuM thrice her own force. 

Some time after this event. Captain 
Hamilton removed into the Prince of 
98 guns, and was attached to Ixird 
Bri^xirt's flert, when that nobleman 
loot two FVench linc-of-battle ships and 
re-c«^itured the Aleiander off I'Orient, 
June 23d, 1795. On this occasion, 
bowever, tbe Ptjiwe was not Ibrtunate 
enough to get into action. 

Our officer was promoted to the rank 
«f rear-admiral, Feb. 20th, 179T; vice- 
admiral, Jan. Ist, ISO), and full ad- 
miral, April 98tii, IGOS. 

His son married, April 2d, 1805, a 
daughter of the late Judge Hyde, and 
' great- grand-daughter of Edward, eighth 
Duke of Somerset. — JUin-iAaJJ'i Bvyal 
Naval ^aqraphy^ 

HARGADON.the Rey. Raymond, 
parish [HriesC of Annadown, county Gal- 
way, aged 70. For 36 yean that he 
resided in lliis parish, he uas unremit- 
tingly devoted to ilie dearest interests 
of bia floek, in performing, witii edify- 
ing fidelity and exactness, Che sacred 
functions and arduous duties of a good 
pastor. His frugal habits, as well as 
the singular kindness of the lery re- 
spectable bnrily in which lie lived for 
many years, enabled him to be always 
aMentiv* to the wants of hi^ indij^t 
yarisfaioners, He estaUisbed a school 
in the parisb chapel, to the mar<lers of 
whieh he bequeathed, in perpetuity, tba 
wterest of QOW. for giving moral and 
reli^ous instmction grituitoutly to 50 
of tJw moat indigent and deslttuta 
childMn of the parish, and ftjr ^ving 

catechetical instruction to the yonthk In 
general every Sunday. WJwn pre- 
Tcntcd by debility from visiting tlie 
abodes of distress, during the lost sum- 
mer, be invited the poor, and distribut- 
ed in person amongst them upwards of 
200/- In addition to thete highly com- 

teresled charily, be bequeathed lOJ. to 
the poor of his parish ; 40£ to formrd 
the intereats of the Cathukic education ; 
and iOOf- to be applied to varioua cha- 
ritable purposes. The inconsiderable 
residue of his effects lie bequeathed to 
h's poorer relatives. — Gml'eoian'i Ma- 

HEATHCOTE, C. Esq. ofWha*- 
ton. Mr. Heathcote was descended 
from an ancient family in Ae county of 
Nottingham, where, and also in the 
county of Derby, considttabic estates 
are yet appendages to the family man- 
sion. He wasiliaeldestof a numerous 
family, born at tbe family maasion at 
East Uridglbrd, trnmileafrom Nntting' , 

genius and ecceatricrities of his patenial 
uncle, the celebrated Dr. Healhcoto, 
author of " Syl»a," &c. His youthful 
pranks were the talk of the tilli^. 
and his rapid adruices in learning,, 
vrhlle yet under the tuition of hia father, 
obtained turn great praise. Afterwardis. 
he was sent |o a grammat-scbool n 
Nurthamptup, where he iaoB became 
pre-em inent among his ftJlowt- Havinc 
finished his preparatory studies he yaa 
entered at one of the Universities, with 
a design of taking holy orders. It ap- 
pears to have been the unanimous wnh 
of both his paternal uncle and bis fatber, 
that this should be his final destimlion ; 
but be became impauent of cewrol, 
launched into the labyrinth of dissip. 
alion, and left hiscollege ivitluiit a<kT 
gree; and lliougli he ajlerwanls, by 
persuasion, submitted bimigclf to be ei, 
Htoined^br ordination, conscioi^s of hit 
own superior attaimnenis, he becam« 
disgusted with the ordeal, and after- 
wards could neyer be prevaile4 Mpon to 
present bimsetf to the bishop. At the 
summit oF life he entered into Ilie mar., 
riage state, and became the father of % 
numerous family. In all situations be 
supported the dignity of his birth and 
charsoler, uniformly erincing tbe diqio, 
sition and habits of a gentleman. Mr. 
Hcatlicole's scholastic attainroents warn 
not of an ordinary degree. Posseosed 
of a daring mind, it teiied on ita own 
speculations witb aridity j tlw lavs of 




tudied th 

lied the constitulioi 



i polici. 

11 and statute law. He com- 
menceil as an author by conlribuUng, 
tluiugh anonjmnmriy, to tome of the pe- 
riodical publications of iijs time. He 
putiliilied in Bvo. 1794, " Renwrka on 
the CorporiUioii and Test Acts;" he 
'translated the various charters granted 
to the town and county or the town of 
Notdngham, and to the corporate body, 
by our surereiens of tlta earliest day. 
He also opposed some EtalemeiiW made 
by the t.uly learned Gilbert Wakefield, 
' ' e Nottingham Journal, with cun- 

lerable su 

telligenc and sincere. In politin, lie 
was a Tory ; in religion, a mmnljcr of 
the Church of EagUad.—Gealleman'i 

HENNIKEK, Sir Frederic, Bart, 
of Newton Hall, Essei, B. A. of St. 
Jiriin's College, Cambridge, and Colonel 
of a battalion uf the Essei local mili- 
tia, Aug. 6, ut his chambers in the Al- 
bany, in hi) 33nd year ; afler a socire 
and painful illness of a furtniglii, the 
acute Eu9)9-iugs of which he sustained 
with becoming resignation. He was 
born November I. 179S, and was the 
ddest son of the late Hon. Lieut.-Ge- 
neral SirBrydgesTrecoihickHenniker, 
Bart, who died Julys. 1816, and like 
bis other conneiiocB, received his edu- 
cation at Eton, where be made no JDcon- 
siderable progress in classical literalorv, 
and thebeautiesof which were ever pre. 
jsent to hia mind. He subsei^uently pur- 
sued his studies at St. Jolm'a College, 
Cambridge, and on quitting the universi^ 
countries, directed his course through 
France and Italy, to Malta, and thence 
to Alciandria and Upper Egypt, Nu- 
bia, the Oaiii, Mount Siuai, and through 
Palestine, to Jerusalem, making his re- 
turn by Smyrna, Athens, Constantitio- 
fie, to Vienna. The result of his ob- 
■';rTatiDnB was pubhihed in lSSS,iu an 
Bvo. volume, entitled, " Notes during 
a Visit to Egypt, Jerusalem, &c." and 
which in an easy and lamiliar style 
eoDtainEmanyamusingparlicularsof his 
travels, adventures, and petilouE escape, 
being severely wounded by banditti, 
and left for dead, nhen descending from 
Jerusalem to Jericho. 

Sir Frederick Uenniker, in Uie spring 
of 1SZ4, had canvassed the borough 
oT Reading, in tbeeventofa dissolution 

of Ibe present parliament ; but friim » 
diSereoce of opinion on the vital ques- 
tion of Catholic Emancipation (to which 
be was strongly opposed), lie xlthdrew 
his pretensions a few days anterior to 
his death. 

1^1, and, attended by his afflicted re- 
latives, tenantry, and friends, interred 
witli due solemnity on the following 
day, in the vault with his respected fa- 
ther and family at Great Dunmow, 
Essei, in which parish Newton Hall 
is situated. — Centleman'i ifaganne. 

HESLOP. the Itev, Luke, D.D. 
SSd June. Dr. Heslop was Archdeacon 
of Bucks, Rector of St. Marylebone, 
&c. &c., tlie oldest settlor wrangler, 
and tbeoldebt archdeacon of alt his con- 
temporaries. He was boin about the 
year 1738. the youngest of a numerous 
family, at Middleham, in the north of 
Yorkshire. He did not go to Cam- 
bridge until he bad passed by some years 
the age at which students usually repair 
to the university. His name first ap- 
pears in the Cambridge Calendar, 1 764, 
when he took his degree of B.A. as 
SeniorWrsnglcrofBene't College. Ttie 
celebrated Faley, a nortli countryman 
also, had distinguished himself by the 
some honour the preceding year. Hes- 
lop afterwards became fellow of liis 
college. In 1772 and 1773 he filled 
the utiice of moderator in the public 
schools, in the former of u'hfcb year^ 
Pretyman, (now 'i'onjioe) tlie present 
Bishop of Winchester, took liis B. A. 
degree,, and attained the same highest 
university honour. The master of Bene'l 
wai. .St this time. Dr. Greene, Bishop 
ufLincoln. He had himself been Senior 
Wrangler in 1 749, and a|ipreciating the 
active talents and persevering ioduslrj 
of Heslop, made him lirst bis examining 
chaplain, and almost immediately after- 
wards, that oBice falling vacant, raised 
him to the dignity of Archdaicon of 
Bucks. On the vatious duties of this 
lalttr charge, Mr. Heslop immediately 
entered with uncompromising firmness 
and resolution,; — a line of conduct 
which be laid down to himself and pur- 
sued throughout. To the archdeaconry 
was attached a stall in Lincoln. The 
bishop becoming Dean of St. Paul's, 
next conferred on him the prdiendol 
stall of Holborn in that cathedral, lo. 
gether with the vicarage of St. Pcler le 
Poor in the city of London. Tin's vi- 
carage was resigned for the rectory of 
Adstork in Bucks, the last p ' 


beitowed onbim by bis earl; and con- 
statM palran. On Ibis ihiag Mr. Hes- 
Ic^^ resided upwards of 25 yews as an 
iri^ pa->jtor and useful magi- 

e latl 

of tl>i> 

perJDd lie beklalso the small rectory of 
AddingtoD. Ws residence in Buck- 
inghaiuslure introduced him lo the ac> 
quainiunceafllie late Duke efrortland, 
to nhoae interests in the county he at- 
tached liiiaseir, and lo whom lie was in- 
debted for the preferment he nfterirards 
attained. In 1S03 he was jirescnted by 
his Grace of Portland, then prime ini. 
Ulster, to the *alualile rectory of Bolliall 
in Northum6erland, with wliieb he ako 
held tlie small rectory of Fulmer in 
Bucks. Tliew Hsings,, lie 
shortly aAwwards gave up, and was ap- 
pointed by the Duke of Portland, mi. 
Bister of St. Marjlehone, and alw, as 

reiignation of Boihall (wbicli wa"! eon- 
fcrrcd on the tutor of the peseni dukcj 
lo tliH ricarago of St. Augustine's in 
Bristol, the presentation to which at that 
time chnnc»j to be in the Crown; the 
Dean of Bristol, the former incumbent, 
having been raised lo iJie licnch. In 
St. Mwylelmne Dr. Heslop finally settled 
himselfin December, IR09, when he liad 
already passed the threescore years and 
ten allotted to mortal vigour- tils ad- 
vanced age, however, by no means pre- 
vented a most assdiuous attention to all 
tlie various concerns of that vast and 
overgrown parish. In matters of pulilic 

■lioa or office, not only to. dahis own 
duty,bul to make others do theirs, must 
sfien find many to oppose, and will 
have but a thonkless 

been the lot of tliQ venerable Archdeacon 
of Bucks and aged minister of St. Mary. 
kbone. To his firmness, principally, is 
owing that the enormous spiritual evil 
' in tliD pariah of Marylebone, tliat of 
coiomitiing more than one hundred 
th.iusand souls lo (lie charge uf one 
pastor, was not perpetuated, as it had 
beieiofore been palliated for (he moment, 
by the erection ofnilditioiMl proprietory 
chapels, instead of ihe only cSecluol 
remedy being applied, me. a division 
into separate pnrisbei. This remedy his 
mggcstions chjefly pointed c-ul, .'.lui this 
his ready yielding up his own lights, 
enabled Ihe Crown lo b(.^n durin;; his 
incumbency. By one of the last acts 
of the last session of Parliament, Iliii 
long.called.ror division has been cnrried 

IKDEX FOB 1825. 435 

into oomideEe eSecI. In the- discharge 
of the ministerial duties of Marylebone, 
Dr. Heslop was ever ready to do more 
than could Ije looked for, eitlier from 
his age or bis staiiou. His Iteart n-as 
ever kind, and his ear ever open, to the 
calls of distress when brought before 
him ; and the poor who went to bim 
nith tlicir own little talcs of want or 
difficulty will bear tbeir testimony, that 
they always found liim attentive to their 
complaints, and ready both himself to 
give and also to procure for thorn pro. 
perrdief. In private life, whoever kcew 
him, will recollect the perfect urbanity 
and aff;ibllity of his manners. In.per- 
bin tall and commanding,, his appear- 
ance was tliat of a highly dignified juid. 
venerable clergyman. Such was the 
eitraordinary vigour of his constitution, 
thai for the first eighty years of hia life,, 
he was never confined a. single day by 

dical remedies or advice: ararecxemp. 
(Ion this from the ills which flesh, is 
generally heir to; yet sudi -an unin- 
terrupted enjoyin^t of healtli,. (Iirougb- 
oul so CKtended a period, must be attri. 
buted in part, at least, to his.own proper 
and temperate use of the blessing itself: 
bo never knew what it wus to have an 
head -ache. During this long archdea- 
conshlp he published several ch^irgcs to 
his clergy, marked hy sound practie.-d 
advice: whilst resident J n his living in 
Bucks, two short 'i-Eihortntions to 
habitual and devout. Communicimis ;" 
and wlu'lst at Botbai^. , two sermons 
preacbed at tlie asuaes, anl at the visi- 
tation of the Bishop of Durham. At 
diflTerent periods he also publidi^same 
pvnphlels on tlie prices of coia^ th^ 
value of land, &e. fire. To Ihe very 
end of his life he continued eitremuly 
fond of all matters relating to calcula- 
t on, and was conslanlly employing him- 
self with a pen in his hand. He was 
throiighovllifeiiidel^gablc. In 1773 
Mr. Heslop married DoroUiy, a daugh- 
ter of Dr. Reeve, a physician nf emi- 
nence in the city. Iliis lady, one son, 
and a daughter, married to Henry Par- 
tridge, Esq. of Hoekham Hall, Nor. 

folk, 1 


accompanied on foot (by tlie parochial 
clergy) lo the new church of St. Mary. 
Icbone. Few men, even during a long 
life, have held sticcessively more various 
church prefenn^t than Ilr. Heslop. 
But tlie emolument* of all of Ibem to. 
gellier did not allow bim to amass 
wealth Inslend of h.ivinglo record uf 


Sr.Hedop, aa wasonceuid of a certain 
church digniurj, and may perchance 
ba said of anolbw — that he dieii 
•' ihamerullj rich," — to the sur^irise of 
all who misjudged his public means, and 
kiuw not the private demaads upon il, 
.the late Rector of Marjlebone died 
poor. — Nea Monthly Magaane. 

HIPFI8I,EY, Sir John Coie, Bart, 
of Warfield Gnxre, Berks, niconiler of 
Sudbury; T-CLmF-R. and A.S.; May 

Th£ Hippi&leyi arij a Sumersetshire 
family, which has been traced to aa 
early period- n^ir JoJm tvos the ooly 
■univingionof \ViIliaaiHippisley,Ku). 
of Yatton, 8omer»el, by Anne, eldest 
daughter of Robert Webb, E^)q. of 
Cromhall, county of Gloucester (Ihe 
representatire of the ancient family uf 
Clyfford House, S.inerset); lie was 
named Coxe, from bis paternal grand- 
mother Dorothy, onlydaughter of Wil- 
liam Coie, Esq. uf East Harplree, So- 

He was a student of Hercrurd Col- 
lege, Oilbrd, and enaled D. C. L. 
July 3, 1776 j be wb» early entered as 

thb honourable society of the Inner 
Temple. In 1779 and 1780, being in 
Itidy, he nai engaged i: 

J govern 

t Romi 

early in tlie latter year, he married 
Margaret, second daughter of Sir John 
Stuart, Bart, at Allaubank, county of 
Berwick. By this lady, who died at 
Bromptoti, September 34, 1799, aged 
44, he bad one son, John Stuart (born 
Augiut 16, 1790), who has succeeded 
Id hifc title, and tliree daughters, Mar- 
garet Frances, married (July 6, 1805) 
U> Tbamas Straogeways HomN-, £>q. 
of Malls Park, Somerset, Windham. 
Baibara, and Louisa-Anne. On his 
return, in the folloiving year, lie was ce- 
commended by Lord Nortli, thru at the 
liead of the Treastu-y, to the Court of 
Directors of the East India Company, 
by whom lia was appointed to that ser- 
. vice with the advanced rank of four 
years. Ue resigned this employment 
in ITSg, having held offices of great 
trust and importance in the kiagdom of 
Tanjore during the war irith Hyder 
Ally, and his son Tippoo Sullaun. 
Sooa afier his return to England he 
was appointed recorder of Sudbury, and 
he was thereby introduced, at tiie gene- 
. >a) election at 1 790, into the represent- 
ation of that liorou^. At the two fol - 
lowing general eltxtions, in 179GaBd 

ISOl, Sir James Marriot and Witliain 
Smith, Esq. were returned, but at tluit 
of 1 SOS (Mr. Crespigny having ttwis- 
ferred to Sir John his interest in the 
borough, which, though it had been tn- 
quently defeated, whs of greet power), 
he was again elected, and continued to 
sit for Sudbury till 1813, when, having 
represented it in five parliaments, be 

In 1792 he returned to luly, where 
he continued till 1796, employed in 
many important negDciation), the bene- 

ledged in ihc most flattering manner by 

In 179G, at the instance of tlie late 
king of Winemburg, he was engaged 
in the neguciation of that prince's mar- 
riage with the Princess Royal of Gtcft 
Britain, an alUance considered at the 
time as likely to be of great importance, 
his Serene Highness being the brolber- 
in-lawofibe Emperors of Germany and 
Russia. In consequence of the success 
ofihatnegociation, Sir John Coie Hip- 
pit>lcy was created a baronet of WarGdd 
Grove, Berks, April 30, ITSG. Hie 
reigning Duke of Winemburg, by let- 
ters patent, granted to Sir John andtiis 
posterity the right of bearing his ducal 
arms,- with the motto of the Great Order 
of Wirtemburg, " Amidtiff virtutisqne 
fuduE." This grant was conGnned by 
the King of tiro^it Britain's sign nia- 
nual, July 7, 1797, and commanded to 
be regUtered in the College of Arms. 
The arms of Wirtemburg are borne an 
the breasts of tlie baronet's su|qiort«rs, 
which are eagles regardant rising sidtle. 
On the- alliance taking plaoe. Sir Jokn 
was appointed, together srith the Duke 
of Portland, Lord GrenviUe, and Mr. 
Chancellor Pitt, a commisiioner and 
trustee of her Royal Highneis's mar- 
i;iBt^ settlemeoL 

The benevolent and mimJGcent act 
of bis late Majesty towards tlie unfin^ 
tunate representaiiTe of the house ef 
Stuart, and the expressive feelings, of 
dignified gratitude with whicb the bo»n 
was accepted ami acknowledged, ate 
facts generally known and appUudeiL 
The distreSBes of the Cardinal of Yofk 
were originally notified to hia Majetty, 
in consequence of the letters addreaanl 
to Sir J. Hippisley by the Cardinal 
Borgia 1 and the transaction may well 
Ik uonaidered as an interesting feature 
in the reigo of Georg« the Good. 

SAr John servad as Higb Deris' of 
Buckingliamshire in 1SU3. lb die 



SNDe fear h« ms turned in the charter 
of the Rojal liistitution of Great Bri- 
Uin one af Ibe first managers of that 

Sir Joha Hippisley married, secondly 
(Feuruary 16, 1801), at Wliattley. So- 
nenet, Elizabeth, daughter of the late 
ThoiDu Horner, of Mella Park, EUq. 
and relict of Henry Hippt^ley Coie, 
Esq. M. p. for Samersetehire (who 
was very distantly related to our Ba- 
ronet, being de«cend£d from the heiress 
qf the elder branch of the Hippisley 
family, seated at Cainely, who, by a 
remarkable coincidence, had, by mar- 
riage with a Coxe, associated ilie two 
ijamea in hi-r family also). By bis 
' triage Sir John acquired the 

On the installation of the Duke of 
Gloucester as Chancellor of the Uui- 
verstty of Cambridge, in 13M. he re- 
ceived the honorary degree oF M.A. as 
of Trinity Colltrge. In 1816 he was 
treasurer of tbe Inner Temple. He 
was also a vice-president and constant 
■upporler of the Literary Fund Soriely, 
one of the principal promoters of the 
literary institutioaii at Bath and Bris- 
' lei, a member of the Government Com- 
mittee of the Turkey Company, and a 
Tice-president and efficient member 
of the West of Enjilaod Agricultural 
Society. He was for many years an 
active magistrate for Somersetshire, and 
none exceeded him in the zealous dis- 
charge of his judicial duties. 

Id his senatorial capacity he bestowed 
considerable attention oa tbc sU(e of 
Ireland, and the question of Caibalic 
emancipation, in faiour of which he 
published " Obserratlons on the Roman 
Catholics of Ireland," IS06, Svo.— 
" Substance of additional Obsenations 
intended to have been delivered in the 
House of Commons on the Petition of 
tha Roman Catholics of Irebnd." 1S05, 
Svo — " Substance of his Speech in 
the House of Commons on the motion 
oT the Right Hon. H. Grattan, re- 
spectiag tlie Penal Laws against the 
Catholics of Ireland. April 24, 1813,' 
Svo — " Letters to the Earl of Fin. 
gal OB the Catholic Claims," 1813, 

Sir John was also much tatercsled on 
the Tread-Mill question, and in 1823, 
published an octavo volume, recom- 
mending the Hand Crank-Mill as a 
substitute for Ibal machine. The work 
QNtU)te4 of ctwrespondcncc and com- 

I Prison Discipline, ad- 
dressed to His Majesty's Secretary for 
the Home Department. 

The particulars here related refer 
chiefly to the public life of Sir J. C. 
Hippisley, but if the moral portrmt of 
the deceased he sketched from his con- 
duct as a huiJund, a father, a friend, 
and a neighbour, it formi tlie best 
estimate of his worth. — Gentleman! 

HOLLIS, John, Esq. Nov. 36th, 
1824 ; at High Wycombe, Bucks ; aged 
81. He was the last descendant in the 
male line of an opulent dissenting fa- 
mily, well known in other counties, ai 
well as in Buckinghamsliire, for their 
zealous attachment to the cause of civil 
and religious liberty, and for [heir li- 
beral support of it. The'Hollis family 
left Yorkshire about the middle of the 
seventeenth century, and esiablislied in 
the Mlnories, London, a trade in what 
is called hardware, by which they ac- 
quired very considerable property. Of 
this family was the celebrated republican 
Thomas Hollis- The late Mr. HoMU 
was himself dislioguislied by his inga. 
nuous love of truth, and eager and 
anxious search sfler it, by hi